text_original: Think not, that my country song Shall displease thy honest ear. Chosen strains I proudly bring, Which the Muses' sacred choir, When they gods and heroes sing, Dictate to th' harmonious lyre.
text_transcription: THINK NOT THAT MY COUNTRY SONG SHALL DISPLEASE THY HONEST EAR CHOSEN STRAINS I PROUDLY BRING WHICH THE MUSES SACRED CHOIR WHEN THEY GODS AND HEROES SING DICTATE TOO HARMONIOUS LYRE
phonemes: θˈɪŋk nˈɑːt, ðæt maɪ kˈʌntɹi sˈɔŋ ʃˌæl dɪsplˈiːz ðˌaɪ ˈɑːnɪst ˈɪɹ. tʃˈoʊzən stɹˈeɪnz aɪ pɹˈaʊdli bɹˈɪŋ, wˌɪtʃ ðə mjˈuːzᵻz sˈeɪkɹɪd kwˈaɪɚ, wˌɛn ðeɪ ɡˈɑːdz ænd hˈiəɹoʊz sˈɪŋ, dˈɪkteɪt tə tˌiːˈeɪtʃ hɑːɹmˈoʊniəs lˈaɪɚ.