text_original: Are we pledged to craven silence? O fling it to the wind, The parchment wall that bars us from the least of human kind,   That makes us cringe and temporize, and dumbly stand at rest, While Pity's burning flood of words is red hot in the breast!
text_transcription: ARE WE PLEDGED TO CRAVEN SILENCE OH FLING IT TO THE WIND THE PARCHMENT WALL THAT BARS US FROM THE LEAST OF HUMAN KIND THAT MAKES US CRINGE AND TEMPORISE AND DUMBLY STAND AT REST WHILE PITY'S BURNING FLOOD OF WORDS IS RED HOT IN THE BREAST
phonemes: ɑːɹ wiː plˈɛdʒd tə kɹˈeɪvən sˈaɪləns? ˈoʊ flˈɪŋ ɪt tə ðə wˈɪnd, ðə pˈɑːɹtʃmənt wˈɔːl ðæt bˈɑːɹz ˌʌs fɹʌmðə lˈiːst ʌv hjˈuːmən kˈaɪnd,   ðæt mˌeɪks ˌʌs kɹˈɪndʒ ænd tˈɛmpɚɹˌaɪz, ænd dˈʌmli stˈænd æt ɹˈɛst, wˌaɪl pˈɪɾiz bˈɜːnɪŋ flˈʌd ʌv wˈɜːdz ɪz ɹˈɛd hˈɑːt ɪnðə bɹˈɛst!