text_original: O Wretched Labour crown'd with such a Meed! Too loud, O Fame! thy Trumpet is, too shrill, To lull a Mind to Rest, Or calme a stormy Breast, Which asks a Musick soft and still.
text_transcription: O WRETCHED LABOUR CROWN'D WITH SUCH A MEAD TOO LOUD O FAME THY TRUMPET IS TOO SHRILL TOO LULL A MIND TO REST OR CALM A STORMY BREAST WHICH ASKS A MUSIC SOFT AND STILL
phonemes: ˈoʊ ɹˈɛtʃᵻd lˈeɪbɚ kɹˈaʊnd wɪð sˈʌtʃ ɐ mˈiːd! tˈuː lˈaʊd, ˈoʊ fˈeɪm! ðˌaɪ tɹˈʌmpɪt ɪz, tˈuː ʃɹˈɪl, tə lˈʌl ɐ mˈaɪnd tə ɹˈɛst, ɔːɹ kˈɑːmi ɐ stˈɔːɹmi bɹˈɛst, wˌɪtʃ ˈæsks ɐ mjˈuːzɪk sˈɔft ænd stˈɪl.