text_original: " What do you wish, father ? " he asked in surprise. The old man gazed at him with sweet humility : " Your blessing, my son." 470 HANS OF ICELAND. " May Heaven bless you, and grant you all the happi  ness which your prayers call down upon your brother men!" replied Ordener, in touched and solemn tones.
text_transcription: WHAT DO YOU WISH FATHER HE ASKED IN SURPRISE THE OLD MAN GAZED AT HIM WITH SWEET HUMILITY YOUR BLESSING MY SON MAY HEAVEN BLESS YOU AND GRANT YOU ALL THE HAPPINESS WHICH YOUR PRAYERS CALL DOWN UPON YOUR BROTHER MAN REPLIED ORDNER IN TOUCHED AND SOLEMN TONES
phonemes: " wˌʌt dˈuː juː wˈɪʃ, fˈɑːðɚ ? " hiː ˈæskt ɪn sɚpɹˈaɪz. ðɪ ˈoʊld mˈæn ɡˈeɪzd æt hˌɪm wɪð swˈiːt hjuːmˈɪlᵻɾi : " jʊɹ blˈɛsɪŋ, maɪ sˈʌn." fˈɔːɹhˈʌndɹɪd sˈɛvənti hˈænz ʌv ˈaɪslənd. " mˈeɪ hˈɛvən blˈɛs juː, ænd ɡɹˈænt juː ˈɔːl ðə hˈæpi nˈɛs wˌɪtʃ jʊɹ pɹˈɛɹz kˈɔːl dˌaʊn əpˌɑːn jʊɹ bɹˈʌðɚ mˈɛn!" ɹᵻplˈaɪd ˈɔːɹdənɚ, ɪn tˈʌtʃt ænd sˈɑːləm tˈoʊnz.