text_original: Yet the architect wrought, silent, Though he touched nor plan nor pen; For the palace he was building Was not seen by eyes of men. While unto the poor and wretched Freely of the gold gave he; Precious stones were turned to healing Needs of poor humanity!
text_transcription: YET THE ARCHITECT ROLLED SILENT THOUGH HE TOUCHED NOR PLAN NOR PEN FOR THE PALACE HE WAS BUILDING WAS NOT SEEN BY EYES OF MEN WHILE UNTO THE POOR AND WRETCHED FREELY OF THE GOLD HE GAVE PRECIOUS STONES WERE TURNED TO HEALING NEEDS OF POOR HUMANITY
phonemes: jˈɛt ðɪ ˈɑːɹkɪtˌɛkt ɹˈɔːt, sˈaɪlənt, ðˌoʊ hiː tˈʌtʃt nˈɔːɹ plˈæn nˈɔːɹ pˈɛn; fɚðə pˈælɪs hiː wʌz bˈɪldɪŋ wʌz nˌɑːt sˈiːn baɪ ˈaɪz ʌv mˈɛn. wˌaɪl ˌʌntʊ ðə pˈʊɹ ænd ɹˈɛtʃᵻd fɹˈiːli ʌvðə ɡˈoʊld ɡˈeɪv hiː; pɹˈɛʃəs stˈoʊnz wɜː tˈɜːnd tə hˈiːlɪŋ nˈiːdz ʌv pˈʊɹ hjuːmˈænᵻɾi!