text_original: ON A CANNON Begotten, and born, and dying with noise, The terror of women, and pleasure of boys, Like the fiction of poets concerning the wind, I'm chiefly unruly when strongest confined.
text_transcription: ON A CANNON BEGOTTEN AND BORNE AND DYING WITH NOISE THE TERROR OF WOMAN AND PLEASURE OF BOYS LIKE THE FICTION OF POETS CONCERNING THE WINE I'M CHIEFLY UNRULY WHEN STRONGEST CONFINED
phonemes: ˌɔn ɐ kˈænən bᵻɡˈɑːʔn̩, ænd bˈɔːɹn, ænd dˈaɪɪŋ wɪð nˈɔɪz, ðə tˈɛɹɚɹ ʌv wˈɪmɪn, ænd plˈɛʒɚɹ ʌv bˈɔɪz, lˈaɪk ðə fˈɪkʃən ʌv pˈoʊɪts kənsˈɜːnɪŋ ðə wˈɪnd, aɪm tʃˈiːfli ʌnɹˈuːli wɛn stɹˈɔŋɡɪst kənfˈaɪnd.