text_original: They are nurseries for young rivers; Nests for his flying cloud; Homesteads for new born races, Masterful, free, and proud. The people of tired cities Come up to their shrines and pray; God freshens again within them, As he passes by all day.
text_transcription: THEY ARE NURSERIES FOR YOUNG RIVERS NESTS FOR HIS FLYING CLOUD HOMESTEADS FOR NEW BORN RACES MASTERFUL FREE AND PROUD THE PEOPLE OF TIRED CITIES COME UP TO THEIR SHRINES AND PRAY GOD FRESHENS AGAIN WITHIN THEM AS HE PASSES BY ALL DAY
phonemes: ðeɪ ɑːɹ nˈɜːsɚɹiz fɔːɹ jˈʌŋ ɹˈɪvɚz; nˈɛsts fɔːɹ hɪz flˈaɪɪŋ klˈaʊd; hˈoʊmstɛdz fɔːɹ nˈuː bˈɔːɹn ɹˈeɪsᵻz, mˈæstɚfəl, fɹˈiː, ænd pɹˈaʊd. ðə pˈiːpəl ʌv tˈaɪɚd sˈɪɾiz kˈʌm ˌʌp tə ðɛɹ ʃɹˈaɪnz ænd pɹˈeɪ; ɡˈɑːd fɹˈɛʃənz ɐɡˈɛn wɪðˈɪn ðˌɛm, æz hiː pˈæsᵻz baɪ ˈɔːl dˈeɪ.