text_original: IN UNCERTAINTY TO A LADY I am not one of those who sip, Like a quotidian bock, Cheap idylls from a languid lip Prepared to yawn or mock. I wait the indubitable word, The great Unconscious Cue.
text_transcription: ORG BY BUNDEE NINETY EIGHT I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE WHO SIP LIKE A QUITIDIAN BACH CHEAP IDOLS FROM A LANGUID LIP PREPARED TO YAWN OR MOCK I WAIT THE INDUBITABLE WORD THE GREAT UNCONSCIOUS CUE
phonemes: ɪn ʌnsˈɜːtənti tuː ɐ lˈeɪdi aɪɐm nˌɑːt wˈʌn ʌv ðoʊz hˌuː sˈɪp, lˈaɪk ɐ kwɑːtˈɪdiən bˈɑːk, tʃˈiːp ˈaɪdɪlz fɹʌm ɐ lˈæŋɡwɪd lˈɪp pɹɪpˈɛɹd tə jˈɔːn ɔːɹ mˈɑːk. aɪ wˈeɪt ðɪ ɪndˈuːbɪɾəbəl wˈɜːd, ðə ɡɹˈeɪt ʌŋkˈɑːnʃəs kjˈuː.