text_original: Yet thou hast called him, nor art thou unkind, O Love Divine, for 'tis thy will That gracious natures leave their love behind To work for Freedom still. Let laurelled marbles weigh on other tombs, Let anthems peal for other dead, Rustling the bannered depth of minster glooms With their exulting spread.
text_transcription: YET THOU HAST CALLED HIM NOR ART THOU UNKIND O LOVE DIVINE FOR TIS THY WILL THAT GRACIOUS NATURES LEAVE THEIR LOVE BEHIND TO WORK FOR FREEDOM STILL LET LAURELED MARBLES WEIGH ON OTHER TOMBS LET ANTHEMS PEAL FOR OTHER DEAD RUSTLING THE BANNER DEPTH OF MINSTER GLOOMS WITH THEIR EXULTING SPREAD
phonemes: jˈɛt ðˈaʊ hˈeɪst kˈɔːld hˌɪm, nˈɔːɹ ˈɑːɹt ðˈaʊ ʌŋkˈaɪnd, ˈoʊ lˈʌv dᵻvˈaɪn, fɔːɹ tˈɪz ðˌaɪ wɪl ðæt ɡɹˈeɪʃəs nˈeɪtʃɚz lˈiːv ðɛɹ lˈʌv bᵻhˌaɪnd tə wˈɜːk fɔːɹ fɹˈiːdəm stˈɪl. lˈɛt lˈɔːɹəld mˈɑːɹbəlz wˈeɪ ˌɔn ˈʌðɚ tˈuːmz, lˈɛt ˈænθəmz pˈiːl fɔːɹ ˈʌðɚ dˈɛd, ɹˈʌsəlɪŋ ðə bˈænɚd dˈɛpθ ʌv mˈɪnstɚ ɡlˈuːmz wɪð ðɛɹ ɛɡzˈʌltɪŋ spɹˈɛd.