text_original: 'Tis thus, O artist, with thy blows severe thou putt'st in stone the ages' ancient hope, the lofty hope that cries, "Oh, when shall labor be happy, and faithful love secure from harm? "When shall a mighty nation of freemen say in the face of the sun, 'Shine no more on the idle ease and the selfish wars of tyrants, but on the pious justice of labor?'"
text_transcription: THIS THUS O ARTIST WITH THY BLOWS SEVERE THOU PUTST IN STONE THE AGE'S ANCIENT HOPE THE LOFTY HOPE THAT CRIES O WHEN SHALL LABOR BE HAPPY AND FAITHFUL LOVE SECURE FROM HARM WHEN SHALL A MIGHTY NATION OF FREEMEN SAY IN THE FACE OF THE SUN SHINE NO MORE ON THE IDLE EASE AND THE SELFISH WARS OF TYRANTS BUT ON THE PIOUS JUSTICE OF LABOR
phonemes: tˈɪz ðˈʌs, ˈoʊ ˈɑːɹɾɪst, wɪð ðˌaɪ blˈoʊz sᵻvˈɪɹ ðˈaʊ pˈʌtst ɪn stˈoʊn ðɪ ˈeɪdʒᵻz ˈeɪntʃənt hˈoʊp, ðə lˈɔfti hˈoʊp ðæt kɹˈaɪz, "ˈoʊ, wˌɛn ʃˌæl lˈeɪbɚ biː hˈæpi, ænd fˈeɪθfəl lˈʌv sᵻkjˈʊɹ fɹʌm hˈɑːɹm? "wˌɛn ʃˌæl ɐ mˈaɪɾi nˈeɪʃən ʌv fɹˈiːmɛn sˈeɪ ɪnðə fˈeɪs ʌvðə sˈʌn, ʃˈaɪn nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ɔnðɪ ˈaɪdəl ˈiːz ænd ðə sˈɛlfɪʃ wˈɔːɹz ʌv tˈaɪɹənts, bˌʌt ɔnðə pˈaɪəs dʒˈʌstɪs ʌv lˈeɪbɚ?"