text_original: Fine ladies, when they write, Nor scold, nor keep a splutter: Their verses give delight, As soft and sweet as butter. But Satan never saw Such haggard lines as these: They stick athwart my maw, As bad as Suffolk cheese.
text_transcription: FINE LADIES WHEN THEY WRITE NOR SCOLD NOR KEEP A SPLUTTER THEIR VERSES GIVE DELIGHT AS SOFT AND SWEET AS BUTTER BUT SATAN NEVER SAW SUCH HAGGARD LINES AS THESE THEY STICK ATHWART MY MAW AS BAD AS SUFFOLK CHEESE
phonemes: fˈaɪn lˈeɪdiz, wˌɛn ðeɪ ɹˈaɪt, nˈɔːɹ skˈoʊld, nˈɔːɹ kˈiːp ɐ splˈʌɾɚ: ðɛɹ vˈɜːsᵻz ɡˈɪv dᵻlˈaɪt, æz sˈɔft ænd swˈiːt æz bˈʌɾɚ. bˌʌt sˈeɪtən nˈɛvɚ sˈɔː sˈʌtʃ hˈæɡɚd lˈaɪnz æz ðˈiːz: ðeɪ stˈɪk ˈæθwɔːɹt maɪ mˈɔː, æz bˈæd æz sˈʌfək tʃˈiːz.