text_original: LIFE FOR SONG Come Muse, O Muse, so often scorned by me, The hope of sorrow and the balm of care,   Give to me speech and song, that I may be Unchid by grief; grant me such graces rare As other ministering souls may never see Who boast thy laurel, and thy myrtle wear.
text_transcription: LIFE FOR SONG COME MUSE O MUSE SO OFTEN SCORNED BY ME THE HOPE OF SORROW AND THE BALM OF CARE GIVE TO ME SPEECH AND SONG THAT I MAY BE UNCHID BY GRIEF GRANT ME SUCH GRACES RARE AS OTHER MINISTERING SOULS MAY NEVER SEE WHO BOAST THY LAUREL AND THY MYRTLE WEAR
phonemes: lˈaɪf fɔːɹ sˈɔŋ kˈʌm mjˈuːz, ˈoʊ mjˈuːz, sˌoʊ ˈɔfən skˈɔːɹnd baɪ mˌiː, ðə hˈoʊp ʌv sˈɑːɹoʊ ænd ðə bˈɑːm ʌv kˈɛɹ,   ɡˈɪv tə mˌiː spˈiːtʃ ænd sˈɔŋ, ðæt aɪ mˈeɪ biː ʌntʃˈɪd baɪ ɡɹˈiːf; ɡɹˈænt mˌiː sˈʌtʃ ɡɹˈeɪsᵻz ɹˈɛɹ æz ˈʌðɚ mˈɪnɪstɚɹɪŋ sˈoʊlz mˈeɪ nˈɛvɚ sˈiː hˌuː bˈoʊst ðˌaɪ lˈɔːɹəl, ænd ðˌaɪ mˈɜːɾəl wˈɛɹ.