text_original: The Voice of Age She'd look upon us, if she could, As hard as Rhadamanthus would; Yet one may see,  who sees her face, Her crown of silver and of lace, Her mystical serene address Of age alloyed with loveliness,   That she would not annihilate The frailest of things animate.
text_transcription: THE VOICE OF AGE SHE'D LOOK UPON US IF SHE COULD AS HARD AS REDAMENTUS WOULD YET ONE MAY SEE WHO SEES HER FACE HER CROWN OF SILVER AND OF LACE HER MYSTICAL SERENE ADDRESS OF AGE ALLOYED WITH LOVELINESS THAT SHE WOULD NOT ANNIHILATE THE FRAILEST OF THINGS ANIMATE
phonemes: ðə vˈɔɪs ʌv ˈeɪdʒ ʃiːd lˈʊk əpˌɑːn ˌʌs, ɪf ʃiː kˈʊd, æz hˈɑːɹd æz ɹˈædɐmˌænθəs wˈʊd; jˈɛt wˈʌn mˈeɪ sˈiː,  hˌuː sˈiːz hɜː fˈeɪs, hɜː kɹˈaʊn ʌv sˈɪlvɚ ænd ʌv lˈeɪs, hɜː mˈɪstɪkəl sɚɹˈiːn ɐdɹˈɛs ʌv ˈeɪdʒ ˈælɔɪd wɪð lˈʌvlinəs,   ðæt ʃiː wʊd nˌɑːt ɐnˈaɪəlˌeɪt ðə fɹˈeɪlɪst ʌv θˈɪŋz ˈænɪmˌeɪt.