text_original: Ye formal weepers for the sick, In your last offices be quick; And spare my absent friends the grief To hear, yet give me no relief; Expired to day, entomb'd to morrow, When known, will save a double sorrow.
text_transcription: YE FORMAL WEEPERS FOR THE SICK IN YOUR LAST OFFICES BE QUICK AND SPARE MY ABSENT FRIENDS THE GRIEF TO HEAR YET GIVE ME NO RELIEF EXPIRED TO DAY ENTOMBED TO MORROW WHEN KNOWN WILL SAVE A DOUBLE SORROW
phonemes: jiː fˈɔːɹməl wˈiːpɚz fɚðə sˈɪk, ɪn jʊɹ lˈæst ˈɑːfɪsᵻz biː kwˈɪk; ænd spˈɛɹ maɪ ˈæbsənt fɹˈɛndz ðə ɡɹˈiːf tə hˈɪɹ, jˈɛt ɡˈɪv mˌiː nˈoʊ ɹᵻlˈiːf; ɛkspˈaɪɚd tə dˈeɪ, ɛntˈuːmd tə mˈɑːɹoʊ, wˌɛn nˈoʊn, wɪl sˈeɪv ɐ dˈʌbəl sˈɑːɹoʊ.