text_original: The sun is a coal of My hearth, the moon an ember that I have quenched; 27. Shall not I make her a desolation, and a rock where devils worship*? 28. Shall not My gulfs conceive, and Mine angels whet their scythes against the day of My reap  ing?
text_transcription: THE SUN IS THE COAL OF MY HEARTH THE MOON AN AMBER THAT I HAVE QUENCHED TWENTY SEVEN SHALL NOT I MAKE HER A DESOLATION AND A ROCK WERE DEVILS WORSHIP TWENTY EIGHT SHALL NOT MY GULFS CONCEIVE AND MINE ANGEL SWEAT THEIR SIGHS AGAINST THE DAY OF MY REAPING
phonemes: ðə sˈʌn ɪz ɐ kˈoʊl ʌv maɪ hˈɑːɹθ, ðə mˈuːn ɐn ˈɛmbɚ ðæt aɪ hæv kwˈɛntʃt; twˈɛnti sˈɛvən. ʃˌæl nˌɑːt aɪ mˌeɪk hɜːɹ ɐ dˌɛsəlˈeɪʃən, ænd ɐ ɹˈɑːk wˌɛɹ dˈɛvəlz wˈɜːʃɪp ˈæstɚɹˌɪsk? twˈɛnti ˈeɪt. ʃˌæl nˌɑːt maɪ ɡˈʌlfs kənsˈiːv, ænd mˈaɪn ˈeɪndʒəlz wˈɛt ðɛɹ sˈaɪðz ɐɡˈɛnst ðə dˈeɪ ʌv maɪ ɹˈiːp ˈɪŋ?