text_original: And when, not Wisely but too Well, My thirst I have contrived to quench, The stories I am apt to tell May be, perhaps, a trifle French; (For 'tis in anecdote, no doubt, That what's Bred in the Beaune comes out.)
text_transcription: AND WHEN NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL MY THIRST I HAVE CONTRIVED TO QUENCH THE STORIES I AM APT TO TELL MAY BE PERHAPS A TRIFLE FRENCH FOR TIS AN ANECDOTE NO DOUBT THAT WHAT'S BRED IN THE BONE COMES OUT
phonemes: ænd wˈɛn, nˌɑːt wˈaɪzli bˌʌt tˈuː wˈɛl, maɪ θˈɜːst aɪ hæv kəntɹˈaɪvd tə kwˈɛntʃ, ðə stˈɔːɹiz aɪɐm ˈæpt tə tˈɛl mˈeɪ bˈiː, pɚhˈæps, ɐ tɹˈaɪfəl fɹˈɛntʃ; (fɔːɹ tˈɪz ɪn ˈænɪkdˌoʊt, nˈoʊ dˈaʊt, ðæt wʌts bɹˈɛd ɪnðə bˈoʊn kˈʌmz ˈaʊt.)