text_original: I bid the traitor Love, adieu! Who to this fond, believing bosom came, A guest insidious and untrue, With Pity's soothing voice  in Friendship's name; The wounds _he_ gave, nor Time shall cure, Nor Reason teach me to endure. And to that breast mild Patience pleads in vain, Which feels the curse  of meriting it's pain. Yet not to me, tremendous power!
text_transcription: I BID THE TRAITOR LOVE ADIEU WHO TO THIS FOND BELIEVING BOSOM CAME A GUEST INSIDIOUS AND UNTRUE WITH PITY'S SOOTHING VOICE IN FRIENDSHIP'S NAME THE WOUNDS HE GAVE NOR TIME SHALL CURE NOR REASON TEACH ME TO ENDURE AND TO THAT BREAST MILD PATIENCE PLEADS IN VAIN WHICH FEELS THE CURSE OF MERITING ITS PAIN YET NOT TO ME TREMENDOUS POWER
phonemes: aɪ bˈɪd ðə tɹˈeɪɾɚ lˈʌv, ɐdjˈuː! hˌuː tə ðɪs fˈɑːnd, bᵻlˈiːvɪŋ bˈʊzəm kˈeɪm, ɐ ɡˈɛst ɪnsˈɪdiəs ænd ʌntɹˈuː, wɪð pˈɪɾiz sˈuːðɪŋ vˈɔɪs ɪn fɹˈɛndʃɪps nˈeɪm; ðə wˈuːndz hiː ɡˈeɪv, nˈɔːɹ tˈaɪm ʃˌæl kjˈʊɹ, nˈɔːɹ ɹˈiːzən tˈiːtʃ mˌiː tʊ ɛndˈʊɹ. ænd tə ðæt bɹˈɛst mˈaɪld pˈeɪʃəns plˈiːdz ɪn vˈeɪn, wˌɪtʃ fˈiːlz ðə kˈɜːs ʌv mˈɛɹɪɾɪŋ ɪts pˈeɪn. jˈɛt nˌɑːt tə mˌiː, tɹəmˈɛndəs pˈaʊɚ!