text_original: 192 A LESSON IN PHILOSOPHY. The summer was hot, and the flies were sore ; They snatched at the food, and swarmed in the face, Till my patience at last was destroyed, and I swore That such vile little wretches had no claims for grace.
text_transcription: A LESSON IN PHILOSOPHY THE SUMMER WAS HOT AND THE FLIES WERE SORE THEY SNATCHED AT THE FOOD AND SWARMED IN THE FACE TILL MY PATIENCE AT LAST WAS DESTROYED AND I SWORE THAT SUCH VILE LITTLE WRETCHES HAD NO CLAIMS FOR GRACE
phonemes: wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd nˈaɪnti tˈuː ɐ lˈɛsən ɪn fɪlˈɑːsəfi. ðə sˈʌmɚ wʌz hˈɑːt, ænd ðə flˈaɪz wɜː sˈɔːɹ ; ðeɪ snˈætʃt æt ðə fˈuːd, ænd swˈɔːɹmd ɪnðə fˈeɪs, tˈɪl maɪ pˈeɪʃəns æt lˈæst wʌz dᵻstɹˈɔɪd, ænd aɪ swˈɔːɹ ðæt sˈʌtʃ vˈaɪl lˈɪɾəl ɹˈɛtʃᵻz hæd nˈoʊ klˈeɪmz fɔːɹ ɡɹˈeɪs.