text_original: "Your priests have trampled the dust of mine without rueing, Despising the joys of man whom I so much loved, Though my springs boil on by your Gothic arcades and pewing, And sculptures crude . . . Would Jove they could be removed!"
text_transcription: YOUR PRIESTS HAVE TRAMPLED THE DUST OF MINE WITHOUT RUIN DESPISING THE JOYS OF MEN WHOM I SO MUCH LOVED THOUGH MY SPRINGS BOIL ON BY YOUR GOTHIC ARCADES AND PEWING AND SCULPTURE SCREWED WOULD JOVE THEY COULD BE REMOVED
phonemes: "jʊɹ pɹˈiːsts hæv tɹˈæmpəld ðə dˈʌst ʌv mˈaɪn wɪðˌaʊt ɹˈuːɪŋ, dᵻspˈaɪzɪŋ ðə dʒˈɔɪz ʌv mˈæn hˈuːm aɪ sˈoʊ mˌʌtʃ lˈʌvd, ðˌoʊ maɪ spɹˈɪŋz bˈɔɪl ˌɔn baɪ jʊɹ ɡˈɑːθɪk ɑːɹkˈeɪdz ænd pjˈuːɪŋ, ænd skˈʌlptʃɚz kɹˈuːd . . . wʊd dʒˈoʊv ðeɪ kʊd biː ɹᵻmˈuːvd!"