text_original: Then blame your power, that my inferior lays Sink far below your too exalted praise: Don't think we flatter, your applause to gain; No, we're sincere,  to flatter you were vain. You spurn at fine encomiums misapplied, And all perfections but your beauties hide. Then as you're fair, we hope you will be kind, Nor frown on those you see so well inclined To please you most.
text_transcription: THEN BLAME YOUR POWER THAT MY INFERIOR LAYS SINK FAR BELOW YOUR TOO EXALTED PRAISE DON'T THINK WE FLATTER YOUR APPLAUSE TO GAIN NO WERE SINCERE TO FLATTER YOU WERE VAIN YOU SPURN AT FINE ECONOMIUMS MISAPPLIED AND ALL PERFECTIONS BUT YOUR BEAUTIES HIDE THEN AS YOU'RE FAIR WE HOPE YOU WILL BE KIND NOR FROWN ON THOSE YOU SEE SO WELL INCLINED TO PLEASE YOU MOST
phonemes: ðˈɛn blˈeɪm jʊɹ pˈaʊɚ, ðæt maɪ ɪnfˈɪɹiɚ lˈeɪz sˈɪŋk fˈɑːɹ bᵻlˌoʊ jʊɹ tˈuː ɛɡzˈɑːltᵻd pɹˈeɪz: dˈoʊnt θˈɪŋk wiː flˈæɾɚ, jʊɹ ɐplˈɔːz tə ɡˈeɪn; nˈoʊ, wɪɹ sɪnsˈɪɹ,  tə flˈæɾɚ juː wɜː vˈeɪn. juː spˈɜːn æt fˈaɪn ɛŋkˈoʊmiəmz mɪsɐplˈaɪd, ænd ˈɔːl pɚfˈɛkʃənz bˌʌt jʊɹ bjˈuːɾiz hˈaɪd. ðˈɛn æz jʊɹ fˈɛɹ, wiː hˈoʊp juː wɪl biː kˈaɪnd, nˈɔːɹ fɹˈaʊn ˌɔn ðoʊz juː sˈiː sˌoʊ wˈɛl ɪŋklˈaɪnd tə plˈiːz juː mˈoʊst.