text_original: To be admired I form no petty league; Few are my friends, but gain'd without intrigue. My bold ambition, destitute of grace, Scorns still to beg their votes from place to place. On the fair stage my scenic toils I raise, While each is free to censure or to praise; And there, unaided by inferior arts, I snatch the applause that rushes from their hearts.
text_transcription: TO BE ADMIRED I FORM NO PETTY LEAGUE FEW ARE MY FRIENDS BUT GAINED WITHOUT INTRIGUE MY BOLD AMBITION DESTITUTE OF GRACE SCORNS STILL TO BEG THEIR VOTES FROM PLACE TO PLACE ON THE FAIR STAGE MY CENIC TOILS I RAISE WHILE EACH IS FREE TO CENSURE OR TO PRAISE AND THERE UNAIDED BY INFERIOR ARTS I SNATCH THE APPLAUSE THAT RUSHES FROM THEIR HEARTS
phonemes: təbi ɐdmˈaɪɚd aɪ fˈɔːɹm nˈoʊ pˈɛɾi lˈiːɡ; fjˈuː ɑːɹ maɪ fɹˈɛndz, bˌʌt ɡˈeɪnd wɪðˌaʊt ɪntɹˈiːɡ. maɪ bˈoʊld æmbˈɪʃən, dˈɛstɪtˌuːt ʌv ɡɹˈeɪs, skˈɔːɹnz stˈɪl tə bˈɛɡ ðɛɹ vˈoʊts fɹʌm plˈeɪs tə plˈeɪs. ɔnðə fˈɛɹ stˈeɪdʒ maɪ sˈiːnɪk tˈɔɪlz aɪ ɹˈeɪz, wˌaɪl ˈiːtʃ ɪz fɹˈiː tə sˈɛnʃɚ ɔːɹ tə pɹˈeɪz; ænd ðˈɛɹ, ʌnˈeɪdᵻd baɪ ɪnfˈɪɹiɚɹ ˈɑːɹts, aɪ snˈætʃ ðɪ ɐplˈɔːz ðæt ɹˈʌʃᵻz fɹʌm ðɛɹ hˈɑːɹts.