text_original: " Few, few, my words — 't is short the grace  And minutes pass so swift ; We may no more talk face to face, Or seek the veil to lift. '' Yet often by thy side I '11 stand — Thou wilt not hear or see — And strive to share in pain and care. And take a part from thee."
text_transcription: FEW FEW MY WORDS TIS SHORT THE GRACE AND MINUTES PASS SO SWIFT WE MAY NO MORE TALK FACE TO FACE OR SEEK THE VEIL TO LIFT YET OFTEN BY THY SIDE I'LL STAND THOU WILT NOT HEAR OR SEE AND STRIVE TO SHARE IN PAIN AND CARE AND TAKE APART FROM THEE
phonemes: " fjˈuː, fjˈuː, maɪ wˈɜːdz — tˈiː ɪz ʃˈɔːɹt ðə ɡɹˈeɪs ænd mˈɪnɪts pˈæs sˌoʊ swˈɪft ; wiː mˈeɪ nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ tˈɔːk fˈeɪs tə fˈeɪs, ɔːɹ sˈiːk ðə vˈeɪl tə lˈɪft. jˈɛt ˈɔfən baɪ ðˌaɪ sˈaɪd aɪ ɪlˈɛvən stˈænd — ðˈaʊ wˈɪlt nˌɑːt hˈɪɹ ɔːɹ sˈiː — ænd stɹˈaɪv tə ʃˈɛɹ ɪn pˈeɪn ænd kˈɛɹ. ænd tˈeɪk ɐ pˈɑːɹt fɹʌm ðˈiː."