text_original: Say, did you ever know by sight In cheese an individual mite! Show me the same numeric flea, That bit your neck but yesterday: You then may boldly go in quest To find the Grub Street poet's nest; What spunging house, in dread of jail, Receives them, while they wait for bail; What alley are they nestled in, To flourish o'er a cup of gin; Find the last garret where they lay, Or cellar where they starve to day.
text_transcription: SAY DID YOU EVER KNOW BY SIGHT IN CHEESE AND INDIVIDUAL MIGHT SHOW ME THE SAME NUMERIC FLAY THAT BIT YOUR NECK BUT YESTERDAY YOU THEN MAY BOLDLY GO IN QUEST TO FIND THE GRUB STREET POETS NEST WHAT SPONGING HOUSE IN DREAD OF JAIL RECEIVES THEM WHILE THEY WAIT FOR PALE WHAT ALLEY ARE THEY NESTLED IN TO FLOURISH O'ER A CUP OF GIN FIND THEE LAST GARRET WHERE THEY LAY OR CELLAR WHERE THEY STARVE TO DAY
phonemes: sˈeɪ, dˈɪd juː ˈɛvɚ nˈoʊ baɪ sˈaɪt ɪn tʃˈiːz ɐn ˌɪndᵻvˈɪdʒuːəl mˈaɪt! ʃˈoʊ mˌiː ðə sˈeɪm nuːmˈɛɹɪk flˈiː, ðæt bˈɪt jʊɹ nˈɛk bˌʌt jˈɛstɚdˌeɪ: juː ðˈɛn mˈeɪ bˈoʊldli ɡˌoʊ ɪn kwˈɛst tə fˈaɪnd ðə ɡɹˈʌb stɹˈiːt pˈoʊɪts nˈɛst; wˌʌt spˈʌndʒɪŋ hˈaʊs, ɪn dɹˈɛd ʌv dʒˈeɪl, ɹᵻsˈiːvz ðˌɛm, wˌaɪl ðeɪ wˈeɪt fɔːɹ bˈeɪl; wˌʌt ˈæli ɑːɹ ðeɪ nˈɛsəld ˈɪn, tə flˈɜːɹɪʃ ˈɔːɹ ɐ kˈʌp ʌv dʒˈɪn; fˈaɪnd ðə lˈæst ɡˈæɹɪt wˌɛɹ ðeɪ lˈeɪ, ɔːɹ sˈɛlɚ wˌɛɹ ðeɪ stˈɑːɹv tə dˈeɪ.