text_original: For, the more livings you can fish up, You think you'll sooner be a bishop: That could not be my lord's intent, Nor can it answer the event. Most think what has been heap'd on you To other sort of folk was due: Rewards too great for your flim flams, Epistles, riddles, epigrams.
text_transcription: FOR THE MORE LIVINGS YOU CAN FISH UP YOU THINK YOU'LL SOONER BE A BISHOP THAT COULD NOT BE MY LORD'S INTENT NOR CAN IT ANSWER THE EVENT MOST THINK WHAT HAS BEEN HEAPED ON YOU TO OTHER SORT OF FOLK WAS DUE REWARDS TOO GREAT FOR YOUR FLIM FLAMS EPISTLES RIDDLE'S EPIGRAMS
phonemes: fɔːɹ, ðə mˈɔːɹ lˈɪvɪŋz juː kæn fˈɪʃ ˈʌp, juː θˈɪŋk juːl sˈuːnɚ biː ɐ bˈɪʃəp: ðæt kʊd nˌɑːt biː maɪ lˈɔːɹdz ɪntˈɛnt, nˈɔːɹ kæn ɪɾ ˈænsɚ ðɪ ᵻvˈɛnt. mˈoʊst θˈɪŋk wʌt hˈæzbiːn hˈiːpd ˌɔn juː tʊ ˈʌðɚ sˈɔːɹt ʌv fˈoʊk wʌz dˈuː: ɹᵻwˈɔːɹdz tˈuː ɡɹˈeɪt fɔːɹ jʊɹ flˈɪm flˈæmz, ᵻpˈɪsəlz, ɹˈɪdəlz, ˈɛpɪɡɹˌæmz.