text_original: We own your verses are melodious; But such comparisons are odious. [Observe the case  I state it thus: Though you compare your trull to us, But think how damnably you err When you compare us clouds to her; From whence you draw such bold conclusions; But poets love profuse allusions. And, if you now so little spare us, Who knows how soon you may compare us To Chartres, Walpole, or a king, If once we let you have your swing.
text_transcription: WE OWN YOUR VERSES ARE MELODIOUS BUT SUCH COMPARISONS ARE ODIOUS OBSERVE THE CASE I STATED THUS THOUGH YOU COMPARE YOUR TROLL TO US BUT THINK HOW DAMNABLY YOU ERR WHEN YOU COMPARE US CLOUDS TO HAIR FROM WHENCE YOU DRAW SUCH BOLD CONCLUSIONS BUT POETS LOVE PROFUSE ILLUSIONS AND IF YOU NOW SO LITTLE SPARE US WHO KNOWS HOW SOON YOU MAY COMPARE US TO CHARTERS WALPOLE OR A KING IF ONCE WE LET YOU HAVE YOUR SWING
phonemes: wiː ˈoʊn jʊɹ vˈɜːsᵻz ɑːɹ mɛlˈoʊdiəs; bˌʌt sˈʌtʃ kəmpˈæɹɪsənz ɑːɹ ˈoʊdiəs. [əbzˈɜːv ðə kˈeɪs aɪ stˈeɪt ɪt ðˈʌs: ðˌoʊ juː kəmpˈɛɹ jʊɹ tɹˈʌl tʊ ˌʌs, bˌʌt θˈɪŋk hˌaʊ dˈæməbli juː ˈɛɹ wɛn juː kəmpˈɛɹ ˌʌs klˈaʊdz tə hɜː; fɹʌm wˈɛns juː dɹˈɔː sˈʌtʃ bˈoʊld kəŋklˈuːʒənz; bˌʌt pˈoʊɪts lˈʌv pɹəfjˈuːz ɐlˈuːʒənz. ænd, ɪf juː nˈaʊ sˌoʊ lˈɪɾəl spˈɛɹ ˌʌs, hˌuː nˈoʊz hˌaʊ sˈuːn juː mˈeɪ kəmpˈɛɹ ˌʌs tə ʃˈɑːɹɾɚz, wˈɔlpoʊl, ɔːɹ ɐ kˈɪŋ, ɪf wˈʌns wiː lˈɛt juː hæv jʊɹ swˈɪŋ.