text_original: "Heedless  men pass me in their search for life, Hunting for altars to their souls' fine fires, Crying the sun or joy of toil and strife And know not that 'tis I  their heart desires.
text_transcription: HEEDLESS MEN PASS ME IN THEIR SEARCH FOR LIFE HUNTING FOR ALTARS TO THEIR SOULS FINE FIRES CRYING THE SUN OR JOY OF TOIL AND STRIFE AND KNOW NOT THAT THIS EYE THEIR HEART DESIRES
phonemes: "hˈiːdləs mˈɛn pˈæs mˌiː ɪn ðɛɹ sˈɜːtʃ fɔːɹ lˈaɪf, hˈʌntɪŋ fɔːɹ ˈɔltɚz tə ðɛɹ sˈoʊlz fˈaɪn fˈaɪɚz, kɹˈaɪɪŋ ðə sˈʌn ɔːɹ dʒˈɔɪ ʌv tˈɔɪl ænd stɹˈaɪf ænd nˈoʊ nˌɑːt ðæt tˈɪz aɪ ðɛɹ hˈɑːɹt dɪzˈaɪɚz.