text_original: That modern love is no such thing As what those ancient poets sing: A fire celestial, chaste, refined, Conceived and kindled in the mind; Which, having found an equal flame, Unites, and both become the same, In different breasts together burn, Together both to ashes turn. But women now feel no such fire, And only know the gross desire.
text_transcription: THAT MODERN LOVE IS NO SUCH THING AS WHAT THOSE ANCIENT POETS SING OF FIRE CELESTIAL CHASTE REFINED CONCEIVED AND KINDLED IN THE MIND WHICH HAVING FOUND AN EQUAL FLAME UNITES AND BOTH BECOME THE SAME INDIFFERENT BREASTS TOGETHER BURN TOGETHER BOTH TO ASHES TURN BUT WOMEN NOW FEEL NO SUCH FIRE AND ONLY KNOW THE GROSS DESIRE
phonemes: ðæt mˈɑːdɚn lˈʌv ɪz nˈoʊ sˈʌtʃ θˈɪŋ æz wʌt ðoʊz ˈeɪntʃənt pˈoʊɪts sˈɪŋ: ɐ fˈaɪɚ səlˈɛstjəl, tʃˈeɪst, ɹᵻfˈaɪnd, kənsˈiːvd ænd kˈɪndəld ɪnðə mˈaɪnd; wˈɪtʃ, hˌævɪŋ fˈaʊnd ɐn ˈiːkwəl flˈeɪm, juːnˈaɪts, ænd bˈoʊθ bɪkˌʌm ðə sˈeɪm, ɪn dˈɪfɹənt bɹˈɛsts təɡˌɛðɚ bˈɜːn, təɡˌɛðɚ bˈoʊθ tʊ ˈæʃᵻz tˈɜːn. bˌʌt wˈɪmɪn nˈaʊ fˈiːl nˈoʊ sˈʌtʃ fˈaɪɚ, ænd ˈoʊnli nˈoʊ ðə ɡɹˈoʊs dɪzˈaɪɚ.