text_original: No reason then, my dear good Dean, But you should travel home again. What though you mayn't in Ireland hope To find such folk as Gay and Pope; If you with rhymers here would share But half the wit that you can spare, I'd lay twelve eggs, that in twelve days, You'd make a dozen of Popes and Gays.
text_transcription: NO REASON THEN MY DEAR GOOD DEAN BUT YOU SHOULD TRAVEL HOME AGAIN WHAT THOUGH YOU MAINT IN IRELAND HOPE TO FIND SUCH FOLK AS GAY AND POPE IF YOU WITH RHYMERS HERE WOULD SHARE BUT HALF THE WIT THAT YOU CAN SPARE I'D LAY TWELVE EGGS THAT IN TWELVE DAYS YOU'D MAKE A DOZEN OF POPES AND GAZE
phonemes: nˈoʊ ɹˈiːzən ðˈɛn, maɪ dˈɪɹ ɡˈʊd dˈiːn, bˌʌt juː ʃˌʊd tɹˈævəl hˈoʊm ɐɡˈɛn. wˌʌt ðˌoʊ juː mˈeɪənt ɪn ˈaɪɚlənd hˈoʊp tə fˈaɪnd sˈʌtʃ fˈoʊk æz ɡˈeɪ ænd pˈoʊp; ɪf juː wɪð ɹˈaɪmɚz hˈɪɹ wʊd ʃˈɛɹ bˌʌt hˈæf ðə wˈɪt ðæt juː kæn spˈɛɹ, aɪd lˈeɪ twˈɛlv ˈɛɡz, ðæt ɪn twˈɛlv dˈeɪz, juːd mˌeɪk ɐ dˈʌzən ʌv pˈoʊps ænd ɡˈeɪz.