text_original: Not for him The tribune s sword, the fasces of reform: Leave those to men with hands our god had wings. SHAKESPEARE Nor think him lapped in self, who all his days Flouted the harlot Fame. His faults were there, But at their worst as spots upon the sun.
text_transcription: NOT FOR HIM THE TRIBUNE SOUGHT THE FACIES OF REFORM LEAVE THOSE TO MAN WITH HANDS OUR GOD HAD WINGS NOR THINK HIM LAPT IN SELF WHO ALL HIS DAYS FLOUTED THE HARLOT FAME HIS FAULTS WERE THERE BUT AT THEIR WORST AS SPOTS UPON THE SUN
phonemes: nˌɑːt fɔːɹ hˌɪm ðə tɹˈɪbjuːn ˈɛs sˈɔːɹd, ðə fˈæsᵻz ʌv ɹᵻfˈɔːɹm: lˈiːv ðoʊz tə mˈɛn wɪð hˈændz ˌaʊɚ ɡˈɑːd hæd wˈɪŋz. ʃˈeɪkspɪɹ nˈɔːɹ θˈɪŋk hˌɪm lˈæpt ɪn sˈɛlf, hˌuː ˈɔːl hɪz dˈeɪz flˈaʊɾᵻd ðə hˈɑːɹlɑːt fˈeɪm. hɪz fˈɔlts wɜː ðˈɛɹ, bˌʌt æt ðɛɹ wˈɜːst æz spˈɑːts əpˌɑːn ðə sˈʌn.