text_original: Have done! have done! I quit the field, To you as to my wife, I yield: As she must wear the breeches: So shall you wear the laurel crown, Win it and wear it, 'tis your own; The poet's only riches.
text_transcription: HAVE DONE HAVE DONE I QUIT THE FID TO YOU AS TO MY WIFE I YIELD AS SHE MUST WEAR THE BREECHES SO SHALL YOU WEAR THE LAUREL CROWN WIN IT AND WEAR IT TIS YOUR OWN THE POET'S ONLY RICHES
phonemes: hæv dˈʌn! hæv dˈʌn! aɪ kwˈɪt ðə fˈiːld, tə juː æz tə maɪ wˈaɪf, aɪ jˈiːld: æz ʃiː mˈʌst wˈɛɹ ðə bɹˈiːtʃᵻz: sˌoʊ ʃˌæl juː wˈɛɹ ðə lˈɔːɹəl kɹˈaʊn, wˈɪn ɪt ænd wˈɛɹ ɪt, tˈɪz jʊɹ ˈoʊn; ðə pˈoʊɪts ˈoʊnli ɹˈɪtʃᵻz.