text_original: 84 THE BREAD ON THE WATERS. Ah ! yes, the loving dead they stand, And stretch their hands to you ; And as you pass to that far land, Their loves your life renew ; Sweet gifts of love your steps pursue ; You gather what you sowed ; You lived for love ; love waits for you, In old or new abode.
text_transcription: THE BREAD ON THE WATERS AH YES THE LOVING DEAD THEY STAND AND STRETCH THEIR HANDS TO YOU AND AS YOU PASS TO THAT FAR LAND THEIR LOVES YOUR LIFE RENEW SWEET GIFTS OF LOVE YOUR STEPS PURSUE YOU GATHER WHAT YOU SOWED YOU LIVED FOR LOVE LOVE WAITS FOR YOU IN OLD OR NEW ABODE
phonemes: ˈeɪɾi fˈɔːɹ ðə bɹˈɛd ɔnðə wˈɔːɾɚz. ˈɑː ! jˈɛs, ðə lˈʌvɪŋ dˈɛd ðeɪ stˈænd, ænd stɹˈɛtʃ ðɛɹ hˈændz tə juː ; ænd æz juː pˈæs tə ðæt fˈɑːɹ lˈænd, ðɛɹ lˈʌvz jʊɹ lˈaɪf ɹᵻnˈuː ; swˈiːt ɡˈɪfts ʌv lˈʌv jʊɹ stˈɛps pɚsˈuː ; juː ɡˈæðɚ wʌt juː sˈoʊd ; juː lˈɪvd fɔːɹ lˈʌv ; lˈʌv wˈeɪts fɔːɹ juː, ɪn ˈoʊld ɔːɹ nˈuː ɐbˈoʊd.