text_original: SWIFT Dear Smed, I read thy brilliant lines, Where wit in all its glory shines; Where compliments, with all their pride, Are by their numbers dignified: I hope to make you yet as clean As that same Viz, St. Patrick's dean. I'll give thee surplice, verge, and stall, And may be something else withal; And, were you not so good a writer, I should present you with a mitre. Write worse, then, if you can  be wise  Believe me, 'tis the way to rise.
text_transcription: SWIFT DEAR SMET I READ THY BRILLIANT LINES WHERE WIT IN ALL ITS GLORY SHINES WHERE COMPLIMENTS WITH ALL THEIR PRIDE ARE BY THEIR NUMBERS DIGNIFIED I HOPE TO MAKE YOU YET AS CLEAN AS THAT SAME BUS SAINT PATRICK'S DEAN I'LL GIVE THEE SUPPLIES VERGE AND STALL AND MAYBE SOMETHING ELSE WITHAL AND WERE YOU NOT SO GOOD A WRITER I SHOULD PRESENT YOU WITH A MITRE WRITE WORSE THEN IF YOU CAN BE WISE BELIEVE ME TIS THE WAY TO RISE
phonemes: swˈɪft dˈɪɹ smˈɛd, aɪ ɹˈiːd ðˌaɪ bɹˈɪliənt lˈaɪnz, wˌɛɹ wˈɪt ɪn ˈɔːl ɪts ɡlˈɔːɹi ʃˈaɪnz; wˌɛɹ kˈɑːmplɪmənts, wɪð ˈɔːl ðɛɹ pɹˈaɪd, ɑːɹ baɪ ðɛɹ nˈʌmbɚz dˈɪɡnᵻfˌaɪd: aɪ hˈoʊp tə mˌeɪk juː jˈɛt æz klˈiːn æz ðæt sˈeɪm vˈɪz, sənt. pˈætɹɪks dˈiːn. aɪl ɡˈɪv ðiː sˈɜːplɪs, vˈɜːdʒ, ænd stˈɔːl, ænd mˈeɪ biː sˈʌmθɪŋ ˈɛls wɪðˈæl; ænd, wɜː juː nˌɑːt sˌoʊ ɡˈʊd ɐ ɹˈaɪɾɚ, aɪ ʃˌʊd pɹɪzˈɛnt juː wɪð ɐ mˈaɪɾɚ. ɹˈaɪt wˈɜːs, ðˈɛn, ɪf juː kæn biː wˈaɪz bᵻlˈiːv mˌiː, tˈɪz ðə wˈeɪ tə ɹˈaɪz.