text_original: Your reverence thus, with like success, (Nor is your skill or labour less,) When bent upon some smart lampoon, Will toss and turn your brain till noon; Which in its jumblings round the skull, Dilates and makes the vessel full: While nothing comes but froth at first, You think your giddy head will burst; But squeezing out four lines in rhyme, Are largely paid for all your time.
text_transcription: YOUR REVERENCE THUS WITH LIKE SUCCESS NOR IS YOUR SKILL OR LABOUR LESS WHEN BENT UPON SOME SMART LAMPOON WILL TOSS AND TURN YOUR BRAIN TILL NOON WHICH IN ITS JUMBLINGS ROUND THE SKULL DILATES AND MAKES THE VESSEL FALL WHILE NOTHING COMES BUT FROTH AT FIRST YOU THINK YOUR GIDDY HEAD WILL BURST BUT SQUEEZING OUT FOUR LINES IN RHYME ARE LARGELY PAID FOR ALL YOUR TIME
phonemes: jʊɹ ɹˈɛvɚɹəns ðˈʌs, wɪð lˈaɪk səksˈɛs, (nˈɔːɹ ɪz jʊɹ skˈɪl ɔːɹ lˈeɪbɚ lˈɛs,) wˌɛn bˈɛnt əpˌɑːn sˌʌm smˈɑːɹt læmpˈuːn, wɪl tˈɔs ænd tˈɜːn jʊɹ bɹˈeɪn tˈɪl nˈuːn; wˌɪtʃ ɪn ɪts dʒˈʌmblɪŋz ɹˈaʊnd ðə skˈʌl, dˈaɪleɪts ænd mˌeɪks ðə vˈɛsəl fˈʊl: wˌaɪl nˈʌθɪŋ kˈʌmz bˌʌt fɹˈɑːθ æt fˈɜːst, juː θˈɪŋk jʊɹ ɡˈɪdi hˈɛd wɪl bˈɜːst; bˌʌt skwˈiːzɪŋ ˈaʊt fˈɔːɹ lˈaɪnz ɪn ɹˈaɪm, ɑːɹ lˈɑːɹdʒli pˈeɪd fɔːɹ ˈɔːl jʊɹ tˈaɪm.