text_original: Not a plate but scoffed at porridge, Not a cup but floated borage. There were always jugs of sherry Waiting for the makers merry, And the dark Burgundian wine That would make a fool divine. Oh, but life went gayly, gayly In the house of Idiedaily!
text_transcription: NOT A PLATE BUT SCUFFED AT PORRIDGE NOT A CUP BUT FLOATED PORRIDGE THERE WERE ALWAYS JUGS OF SHERRY WAITING FOR THE MAKERS MERRY AND A DARK BURGUNDIAN WINE THAT WOULD MAKE A FOOL DIVINE OH BUT LIFE WENT GAILY GAILY IN THE HOUSE OF IDA DAILY
phonemes: nˌɑːɾə plˈeɪt bˌʌt skˈɔft æt pˈɔɹɪdʒ, nˌɑːɾə kˈʌp bˌʌt flˈoʊɾᵻd bˈɔːɹɪdʒ. ðɛɹwˌɜːɹ ˈɔːlweɪz dʒˈʌɡz ʌv ʃˈɛɹi wˈeɪɾɪŋ fɚðə mˈeɪkɚz mˈɛɹi, ænd ðə dˈɑːɹk bɜːɡˈʌndiən wˈaɪn ðæt wʊd mˌeɪk ɐ fˈuːl dᵻvˈaɪn. ˈoʊ, bˌʌt lˈaɪf wɛnt ɡˈeɪli, ɡˈeɪli ɪnðə hˈaʊs ʌv ˈɪdɪdˌeɪli!