text_original: What will raise your admiration, I am not one of God's creation, But sprung, (and I this truth maintain,) Like Pallas, from my father's brain. And after all, I chiefly owe My beauty to the shades below.
text_transcription: WHAT WILL RAISE YOUR ADMIRATION I AM NOT ONE OF GOD'S CREATION BUT SPRUNG AND I THIS TRUTH MAINTAIN LIKE PALACE FROM MY FATHER'S BRAIN AND AFTER ALL I CHIEFLY OWE MY BEAUTY TO THE SHADES BELOW
phonemes: wˌʌt wɪl ɹˈeɪz jʊɹ ˌædmɚɹˈeɪʃən, aɪɐm nˌɑːt wˈʌn ʌv ɡˈɑːdz kɹiːˈeɪʃən, bˌʌt spɹˈʌŋ, (ænd aɪ ðɪs tɹˈuːθ meɪntˈeɪn,) lˈaɪk pˈæləs, fɹʌm maɪ fˈɑːðɚz bɹˈeɪn. ænd ˈæftɚɹ ˈɔːl, aɪ tʃˈiːfli ˈoʊ maɪ bjˈuːɾi tə ðə ʃˈeɪdz bᵻlˈoʊ.