text_original: His hand we must adore. He did assuage the savage rage, That they should kill no more. The gloomy night now gone and past, The sun returns again, The little birds from every bush Seem to lament the slain.
text_transcription: HIS HAND WE MUST ADORE HE DID ASSUAGE THE SAVAGE RAGE THAT THEY SHOULD KILL NO MORE THE GLOOMY NIGHT NOW GONE AND PASSED THE SUN RETURNS AGAIN THE LITTLE BIRDS FROM EVERY BUSH SEEM'D TO LAMENT THE SLAIN
phonemes: hɪz hˈænd wiː mˈʌst ɐdˈɔːɹ. hiː dˈɪd ɐswˈeɪdʒ ðə sˈævɪdʒ ɹˈeɪdʒ, ðæt ðeɪ ʃˌʊd kˈɪl nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ. ðə ɡlˈuːmi nˈaɪt nˈaʊ ɡɔn ænd pˈæst, ðə sˈʌn ɹᵻtˈɜːnz ɐɡˈɛn, ðə lˈɪɾəl bˈɜːdz fɹʌm ˈɛvɹi bˈʊʃ sˈiːm tə lɐmˈɛnt ðə slˈeɪn.