text_original: 130 ON THE GREAT WAR TO THE WAR LORDS I Be yours the doom Isaiah s voice foretold, Lifted on Babylon, O ye whose hands Cast the sword s shadow upon weaker lands, And for whose pride a million hearths grow cold
text_transcription: HAT ORK BY SONYA TO THE WAR LORDS ONE BE YOURS THE DOOM ESAYAH'S VOICE FORETOLD LIFTED ON BABYLON O YE WHOSE HANDS CAST A SWORD'S SHADOW UPON WEAKER LANDS AND FOR WHOSE PRIDE A MILLION HEARTHS GROW COLD
phonemes: wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd θˈɜːɾi ɔnðə ɡɹˈeɪt dˌʌbəljˌuːˌeɪˈɑːɹ tuː ðə dˌʌbəljˌuːˌeɪˈɑːɹ lˈɔːɹdz aɪ biː jˈɔːɹz ðə dˈuːm aɪzˈeɪə ˈɛs vˈɔɪs fɔːɹtˈoʊld, lˈɪftᵻd ˌɔn bˈæbɪlən, ˈoʊ jiː hˌuːz hˈændz kˈæst ðə sˈɔːɹd ˈɛs ʃˈædoʊ əpˌɑːn wˈiːkɚ lˈændz, ænd fɔːɹ hˌuːz pɹˈaɪd ɐ mˈɪliən hˈɑːɹθs ɡɹˈoʊ kˈoʊld