text_original: XII Since, happy saint, since it has been of late Either our blindness or our fate, To lose the providence of thy cares Pity a miserable church's tears, That begs the powerful blessing of thy prayers.
text_transcription: SINCE HAPPY SAINT SINCE IT HAS BEEN OF LATE EITHER OUR BLINDNESS OR OUR FATE TO LOSE THE PROVIDENCE OF THY CARES PITY A MISERABLE CHURCH'S TEARS THAT BEGS THE POWERFUL BLESSING OF THY PRAYERS
phonemes: ɹˌoʊmən twˈɛlv sˈɪns, hˈæpi sˈeɪnt, sˈɪns ɪt hˈæzbiːn ʌv lˈeɪt ˈiːðɚɹ ˌaʊɚ blˈaɪndnəs ɔːɹ ˌaʊɚ fˈeɪt, tə lˈuːz ðə pɹˈɑːvɪdəns ʌv ðˌaɪ kˈɛɹz pˈɪɾi ɐ mˈɪzɹəbəl tʃˈɜːtʃɪz tˈɪɹz, ðæt bˈɛɡz ðə pˈaʊɚfəl blˈɛsɪŋ ʌv ðˌaɪ pɹˈɛɹz.