text_original: Rains weep over the lonely mound, Sunlight lingers, and swift shades pass; Tender hands of the gentle wind Smooth the knots of the tangled grass. What though hallowed by Death alone, Rest unbroken the sod doth yield; Peace is here, for His constant watch God doth set o'er the Potter's Field.
text_transcription: RAINS SWEEP OVER THE LONELY MOUND SUNLIGHT LINGERS AND SWIFT SHADES PASS TENDER HANDS OF THE GENTLE WIND SMOOTH THE KNOTS OF THE TANGLED GRASS WHAT THOUGH HALLOWED BY DEATH ALONE RESTS UNBROKEN THE SOD DOTH YIELD PEACE IS HERE FOR HIS CONSTANT WATCH GOD DOTH SET OVER THE POTTER'S FIELD
phonemes: ɹˈeɪnz wˈiːp ˌoʊvɚ ðə lˈoʊnli mˈaʊnd, sˈʌnlaɪt lˈɪŋɡɚz, ænd swˈɪft ʃˈeɪdz pˈæs; tˈɛndɚ hˈændz ʌvðə dʒˈɛntəl wˈɪnd smˈuːð ðə nˈɑːts ʌvðə tˈæŋɡəld ɡɹˈæs. wˌʌt ðˌoʊ hˈæloʊd baɪ dˈɛθ ɐlˈoʊn, ɹˈɛst ʌnbɹˈoʊkən ðə sˈɑːd dʌθ jˈiːld; pˈiːs ɪz hˈɪɹ, fɔːɹ hɪz kˈɑːnstənt wˈɑːtʃ ɡˈɑːd dʌθ sˈɛt ˈɔːɹ ðə pˈɑːɾɚz fˈiːld.