text_original: Perhaps our Babels too will fall; If so, no lamentations, For Mother Earth will shelter all, And feed the unborn nations; Yes, and the swords that menace now, Will then be beaten to the plough.
text_transcription: PERHAPS OUR BABELS TOO WILL FALL IF SO NO LAMENTATIONS FOR MOTHER EARTH WILL SHELTER ALL AND FEED THE UNBORN NATIONS YES AND THE SWORDS THAT MENACE NOW WILL THEN BE BEATEN TO THE PLOUGH
phonemes: pɚhˈæps ˌaʊɚ bˈeɪbəlz tˈuː wɪl fˈɔːl; ɪf sˈoʊ, nˈoʊ lɐməntˈeɪʃənz, fɔːɹ mˈʌðɚɹ ˈɜːθ wɪl ʃˈɛltɚɹ ˈɔːl, ænd fˈiːd ðɪ ʌnbˈɔːɹn nˈeɪʃənz; jˈɛs, ænd ðə sˈɔːɹdz ðæt mˈɛnɪs nˈaʊ, wɪl ðˈɛn biː bˈiːʔn̩ tə ðə plˈaʊ.