text_original: When the brain gets dry as an empty nut, When the reason stands on its squarest toes, When the mind (like a beard) has a " formal cut," — There is place and enough for the pains of prose ; But whenever the May blood stirs and glows, And the young year draws to the " golden prime," And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose, — Then hey ! for the ripple of laughing rhyme
text_transcription: WHEN THE BRAIN GETS DRY AS AN EMPTY KNOT WHEN THE REASON STANDS ON ITS SQUAREST TOES WHEN THE MIND LIKE A BEARD HAS A FORMAL CUT THERE IS PLACE AND ENOUGH FOR THE PAINS OF PROSE BUT WHENEVER THE MAY BLOOD STIRS AND GLOWS AND THE YOUNG YEAR DRAWS TO THE GOLDEN PRIME AND SIR ROMEO STICKS IN HIS EAR A ROSE THEN HEY FOR THE RIPPLE OF LAUGHING RHYME
phonemes: wˌɛn ðə bɹˈeɪn ɡˈɛts dɹˈaɪ æz ɐn ˈɛmpti nˈʌt, wˌɛn ðə ɹˈiːzən stˈændz ˌɔn ɪts skwˈɛɹɪst tˈoʊz, wˌɛn ðə mˈaɪnd (lˈaɪk ɐ bˈɪɹd) hɐz ˈeɪ " fˈɔːɹməl kˈʌt," — ðɛɹ ɪz plˈeɪs ænd ɪnˈʌf fɚðə pˈeɪnz ʌv pɹˈoʊz ; bˌʌt wɛnˌɛvɚ ðə mˈeɪ blˈʌd stˈɜːz ænd ɡlˈoʊz, ænd ðə jˈʌŋ jˈɪɹ dɹˈɔːz tə ðə " ɡˈoʊldən pɹˈaɪm," ænd sˌɜː ɹˈoʊmɪˌoʊ stˈɪks ɪn hɪz ˈɪɹ ɐ ɹˈoʊz, — ðˈɛn hˈeɪ ! fɚðə ɹˈɪpəl ʌv lˈæfɪŋ ɹˈaɪm