text_original: So the commons unhors'd them; and this was their doom, On their crosiers to ride like a witch on a broom. Though they gallop'd so fast, on the road you may find 'em, And have left us but three out of twenty behind 'em.
text_transcription: SO THE COMMONS UNHORSED THEM AND THIS WAS THEIR DOOM ON THEIR CROZIERS TO RIDE LIKE A WITCH ON A BROOM THOUGH THEY GALLOPED SO FAST ON THE ROAD YOU MAY FIND HIM AND HAVE LEFT US BUT THREE OUT OF TWENTY BEHIND HIM
phonemes: sˌoʊ ðə kˈɑːmənz ʌnhˈɔːɹzd ðˌɛm; ænd ðɪs wʌz ðɛɹ dˈuːm, ˌɔn ðɛɹ kɹˈoʊsɪɹz tə ɹˈaɪd lˈaɪk ɐ wˈɪtʃ ˌɔn ɐ bɹˈuːm. ðˌoʊ ðeɪ ɡˈæləpd sˌoʊ fˈæst, ɔnðə ɹˈoʊd juː mˈeɪ fˈaɪnd ˈɛm, ænd hæv lˈɛft ˌʌs bˌʌt θɹˈiː ˌaʊɾəv twˈɛnti bᵻhˌaɪnd ˈɛm.