text_original: "Yes! now neglected and despised, The rose is pale, the lily's dead; But he, that once their charms so prized, Is sure the cause those charms are fled. "For know, when sick'ning grief doth prey, And tender love's repaid with scorn, The sweetest beauty will decay,   What floweret can endure the storm?
text_transcription: YES NOW NEGLECTED AND DESPISED THE ROSE IS PALE THE LILIES DEAD BUT HE THAT ONCE THEIR CHARMS SO PRIZED IS SURE THE CAUSE THOSE CHARMS ARE FLED FOR NOW WHEN SICKENING GRIEF DOTH PRAY AND TENDER LOVES REPAID WITH SCORN THE SWEETEST BEAUTY WILL DECAY WHAT FLOWER IT CAN ENDURE THE STORM
phonemes: "jˈɛs! nˈaʊ nᵻɡlˈɛktᵻd ænd dᵻspˈaɪzd, ðə ɹˈoʊz ɪz pˈeɪl, ðə lˈɪliz dˈɛd; bˌʌt hiː, ðæt wˈʌns ðɛɹ tʃˈɑːɹmz sˌoʊ pɹˈaɪzd, ɪz ʃˈʊɹ ðə kˈɔːz ðoʊz tʃˈɑːɹmz ɑːɹ flˈɛd. "fɔːɹ nˈoʊ, wˌɛn sˈɪknɪŋ ɡɹˈiːf dʌθ pɹˈeɪ, ænd tˈɛndɚ lˈʌvz ɹᵻpˈeɪd wɪð skˈɔːɹn, ðə swˈiːɾɪst bjˈuːɾi wɪl dᵻkˈeɪ,   wˌʌt flˈaʊɚɹət kæn ɛndˈʊɹ ðə stˈɔːɹm?