text_original: Where shall he find a decent house, To treat his friends and cheer his spouse? O! tack, my lord, some pretty cure, In wholesome soil, and ether pure; The garden stored with artless flowers, In either angle shady bowers.
text_transcription: WHERE SHALL HE FIND A DECENT HOUSE TO TREAT HIS FRIENDS AND CHEER HIS SPOUSE OH TACK MY LORD SOME PRETTY CURE IN WHOLESOME SOIL AND ETHER PURE THE GARDEN STORED WITH ARTLESS FLOWERS IN EITHER ANGLE SHADY BOWERS
phonemes: wˌɛɹ ʃˌæl hiː fˈaɪnd ɐ dˈiːsənt hˈaʊs, tə tɹˈiːt hɪz fɹˈɛndz ænd tʃˈɪɹ hɪz spˈaʊs? ˈoʊ! tˈæk, maɪ lˈɔːɹd, sˌʌm pɹˈɪɾi kjˈʊɹ, ɪn hˈoʊlsʌm sˈɔɪl, ænd ˈiːθɚ pjˈʊɹ; ðə ɡˈɑːɹdən stˈɔːɹd wɪð ˈɑːɹtləs flˈaʊɚz, ɪn ˈiːðɚɹ ˈæŋɡəl ʃˈeɪdi bˈaʊɚz.