text_original: An author thus, who pants for fame, Begins the world with fear and shame; When first in print you see him dread Each pop gun levell'd at his head: The lead yon critic's quill contains, Is destined to beat out his brains: As if he heard loud thunders roll, Cries, Lord have mercy on his soul!
text_transcription: AN AUTHOR THUS WHO PANTS FOR FAME BEGINS THE WORLD WITH FEAR AND SHAME WHEN FIRST IN PRINT YOU SEE HIM DREAD EACH POP GUN LEVELLED AT HIS HEAD THE LEAD YON CRITIC'S QUILL CONTAINS IS DESTINED TO BEAT OUT HIS BRAINS AS IF HE HEARD LOUD THUNDERS ROLL CRIES LORD HAVE MERCY ON HIS SOUL
phonemes: ɐn ˈɔːθɚ ðˈʌs, hˌuː pˈænts fɔːɹ fˈeɪm, bɪɡˈɪnz ðə wˈɜːld wɪð fˈɪɹ ænd ʃˈeɪm; wˌɛn fˈɜːst ɪn pɹˈɪnt juː sˈiː hˌɪm dɹˈɛd ˈiːtʃ pˈɑːp ɡˈʌn lˈɛvɛld æt hɪz hˈɛd: ðə lˈiːd jˈɑːn kɹˈɪɾɪkz kwˈɪl kəntˈeɪnz, ɪz dˈɛstɪnd tə bˈiːt ˈaʊt hɪz bɹˈeɪnz: æz ɪf hiː hˈɜːd lˈaʊd θˈʌndɚz ɹˈoʊl, kɹˈaɪz, lˈɔːɹd hæv mˈɜːsi ˌɔn hɪz sˈoʊl!