text_original: No. Art may bloom, and peace and bliss; Grief may refrain and Death forget; But if there be no more than this, The soul of home is wanting yet. Dim image from far glory caught, Fair type of fairer things to be, The true home rises in our thought, A beacon set for men to see. Its lamps burn freely in the night, Its fire glows unchidden shed Their cheering and abounding light On homeless folk uncomforted.
text_transcription: NO ART MAY BLOOM AND PEACE AND BLISS GRIEF MAY REFRAIN AND DEATH FORGET BUT IF THERE BE NO MORE THAN THIS THE SOUL OF HOME IS WANTING YET DIM IMAGE FROM FAR GLORY CALLED FAIR TYPE OF FAIRER THINGS TO BE THE TRUE HOME RISES IN OUR THOUGHT A BEACON SET FOR MAN TO SEE ITS LAMPS BURN FREELY IN THE NIGHT ITS FIRE GLOWS UNSHADDEN SHED THEIR CHEERING AND ABOUNDING LIGHT ON HOMELESS FOLK UNCOMFORTED
phonemes: nˈoʊ. ˈɑːɹt mˈeɪ blˈuːm, ænd pˈiːs ænd blˈɪs; ɡɹˈiːf mˈeɪ ɹᵻfɹˈeɪn ænd dˈɛθ fɚɡˈɛt; bˌʌt ɪf ðɛɹbˈiː nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ðɐn ðˈɪs, ðə sˈoʊl ʌv hˈoʊm ɪz wˈɔntɪŋ jˈɛt. dˈɪm ˈɪmɪdʒ fɹʌm fˈɑːɹ ɡlˈɔːɹi kˈɔːt, fˈɛɹ tˈaɪp ʌv fˈɛɹɚ θˈɪŋz tə bˈiː, ðə tɹˈuː hˈoʊm ɹˈaɪzᵻz ɪn ˌaʊɚ θˈɔːt, ɐ bˈiːkən sˈɛt fɔːɹ mˈɛn tə sˈiː. ɪts lˈæmps bˈɜːn fɹˈiːli ɪnðə nˈaɪt, ɪts fˈaɪɚ ɡlˈoʊz ʌntʃˈɪdən ʃˈɛd ðɛɹ tʃˈɪɹɪŋ ænd ɐbˈaʊndɪŋ lˈaɪt ˌɔn hˈoʊmləs fˈoʊk ʌŋkˈʌmfɚɾᵻd.