text_original: When the toiler's heart you clutch, Conscience is not valued much, He recks not a bloody smutch On his gold: Everything to you defers, You are potent reasoners, At your whisper Treason stirs, Hunger and Cold!
text_transcription: WHEN THE TOILER'S HEART YOU CLUTCH CONSCIENCE IS NOT VALUED MUCH HE WRECKS NOT THE BLOODY SMUTCH ON HIS GOLD EVERYTHING TO YOU DEFERS YOU ARE POTENT REASONERS AT YOUR WHISPER TREASON STIRS HUNGER AND COLD
phonemes: wˌɛn ðə tˈɔɪlɚz hˈɑːɹt juː klˈʌtʃ, kˈɑːnʃəns ɪz nˌɑːt vˈæljuːd mˈʌtʃ, hiː ɹˈɛks nˌɑːɾə blˈʌdi smˈʌtʃ ˌɔn hɪz ɡˈoʊld: ˈɛvɹɪθˌɪŋ tə juː dᵻfˈɜːz, juː ɑːɹ pˈoʊtənt ɹˈiːzənɚz, æt jʊɹ wˈɪspɚ tɹˈiːzən stˈɜːz, hˈʌŋɡɚɹ ænd kˈoʊld!