text_original: You see, my lord, what 'tis I lack, 'Tis only some convenient tack, Some parsonage house with garden sweet, To be my late, my last retreat; A decent church, close by its side, There, preaching, praying, to reside; And as my time securely rolls, To save my own and other souls.
text_transcription: YOU SEE MY LORD WHAT TIS I LACK TIS ONLY SOME CONVENIENT TACK SOME PARSONAGE HOUSE WITH GARDEN SWEET TO BE MY LATE MY LAST RETREAT A DECENT CHURCH CLOSE BY ITS SIDE THEIR PREACHING PRAYING TO RESIDE AND AS MY TIME SECURELY ROLLS TO SAVE MY OWN AND OTHER SOULS
phonemes: juː sˈiː, maɪ lˈɔːɹd, wˌʌt tˈɪz aɪ lˈæk, tˈɪz ˈoʊnli sˌʌm kənvˈiːnɪənt tˈæk, sˌʌm pˈɑːɹsənɪdʒ hˈaʊs wɪð ɡˈɑːɹdən swˈiːt, təbi maɪ lˈeɪt, maɪ lˈæst ɹᵻtɹˈiːt; ɐ dˈiːsənt tʃˈɜːtʃ, klˈoʊs baɪ ɪts sˈaɪd, ðˈɛɹ, pɹˈiːtʃɪŋ, pɹˈeɪɪŋ, tə ɹᵻsˈaɪd; ænd æz maɪ tˈaɪm sᵻkjˈʊɹli ɹˈoʊlz, tə sˈeɪv maɪ ˈoʊn ænd ˈʌðɚ sˈoʊlz.