text_original: She frowns at much of what she hears, And shakes her head, and has her fears; Though none may know, by any chance, What rose leaf ashes of romance Are faintly stirred by later days That would be well enough, she says, If only people were more wise, And grown up children used their eyes.
text_transcription: SHE FROWNS AT MUCH OF WHAT SHE HEARS AND SHAKES HER HEAD AND HAS HER FEARS THOUGH NONE MAY KNOW BY ANY CHANCE WHAT ROSE LEAF ASHES OF ROMANCE ARE FAINTLY STIRRED BY LATER DAYS THAT WOULD BE WELL ENOUGH SHE SAYS IF ONLY PEOPLE WERE MORE WISE AND GROWN UP CHILDREN USED THEIR EYES
phonemes: ʃiː fɹˈaʊnz æt mˈʌtʃ ʌv wʌt ʃiː hˈɪɹz, ænd ʃˈeɪks hɜː hˈɛd, ænd hɐz hɜː fˈɪɹz; ðˌoʊ nˈʌn mˈeɪ nˈoʊ, baɪ ˌɛni tʃˈæns, wˌʌt ɹˈoʊz lˈiːf ˈæʃᵻz ʌv ɹoʊmˈæns ɑːɹ fˈeɪntli stˈɜːd baɪ lˈeɪɾɚ dˈeɪz ðæt wʊd biː wˈɛl ɪnˈʌf, ʃiː sˈɛz, ɪf ˈoʊnli pˈiːpəl wɜː mˈɔːɹ wˈaɪz, ænd ɡɹˈoʊn ˌʌp tʃˈɪldɹən jˈuːzd ðɛɹ ˈaɪz.