text_original: I am not saint enough to feel My shoulder ripen to a wing, Nor have I wits enough to steal His title from the Copper King; And there's a vasty gulf between The Man I Am and Might Have Been; But tho' at dinner I may take Too much of Heidsieck (extra dry), And underneath the table make My simple couch just where I lie, My mode of roosting on the floor Is just a trick and nothing more.
text_transcription: I AM NOT SAINT ENOUGH TO FEEL MY SHOULDER RIPEN TO A WING NOR HAVE I WITS ENOUGH TO STEAL HIS TITLE FROM THE COPPER KING AND THERE'S A VAST E GULF BETWEEN THE MAN I AM AND MIGHT HAVE BEEN BUT THOUGH AT DINNER I MAY TAKE TOO MUCH OF HIDE SEEK EXTRA DRY AND UNDERNEATH THE TABLE MAKE MY SIMPLE COUCH JUST WHERE I LIE MY MODE OF ROOSTING ON THE FLOOR IS JUST A TRICK AND NOTHING MORE
phonemes: aɪɐm nˌɑːt sˈeɪnt ɪnˈʌf tə fˈiːl maɪ ʃˈoʊldɚ ɹˈaɪpən tʊ ɐ wˈɪŋ, nˈɔːɹ hæv aɪ wˈɪts ɪnˈʌf tə stˈiːl hɪz tˈaɪɾəl fɹʌmðə kˈɑːpɚ kˈɪŋ; ænd ðɛɹz ɐ vˈæsti ɡˈʌlf bᵻtwˌiːn ðə mˈæn aɪɐm ænd mˌaɪthɐv bˌɪn; bˌʌt ðˈoʊ æt dˈɪnɚɹ aɪ mˈeɪ tˈeɪk tˈuː mʌtʃ ʌv hˈaɪdsaɪk (ˈɛkstɹə dɹˈaɪ), ænd ˌʌndɚnˈiːθ ðə tˈeɪbəl mˌeɪk maɪ sˈɪmpəl kˈaʊtʃ dʒˈʌst wˌɛɹ aɪ lˈaɪ, maɪ mˈoʊd ʌv ɹˈuːstɪŋ ɔnðə flˈɔːɹ ɪz dʒˈʌst ɐ tɹˈɪk ænd nˈʌθɪŋ mˈɔːɹ.