text_original: In that familiar home of mine The guests are blithe, — the candles shine : — 'It is the common lot' they said, Remembrance rests not with the dead ; — We wept, and we are comforted. Yea, so, sweet friends, grieve not, — and yet, Without remembrance or regret I would the dead too might forget, Sleeping full sound beneath the yew, And the strewn rosemary and rue.
text_transcription: IN THAT FAMILIAR HOME OF MINE THE GUESTS ARE BLITHE THE CANDLES SHINE IT IS THE COMMON LOT THEY SAID REMEMBRANCE RESTS NOT WITH THE DEAD WE WEPT AND WE ARE COMFORTED YEA SO SWEET FRIENDS GRIEVE NOT AND YET WITHOUT REMEMBRANCE OR REGRET I WOULD THE DEAD TOO MIGHT FORGET SLEEPING FULL SOUND BENEATH THE YEW AND THE STREWN ROSEMARY AND RUE
phonemes: ɪn ðæt fəmˈɪlɪɹ hˈoʊm ʌv mˈaɪn ðə ɡˈɛsts ɑːɹ blˈaɪð, — ðə kˈændəlz ʃˈaɪn : — ɪɾ ɪz ðə kˈɑːmən lˈɑːt ðeɪ sˈɛd, ɹᵻmˈɛmbɹəns ɹˈɛsts nˌɑːt wɪððə dˈɛd ; — wiː wˈɛpt, ænd wiː ɑːɹ kˈʌmfɚɾᵻd. jˈeɪ, sˈoʊ, swˈiːt fɹˈɛndz, ɡɹˈiːv nˈɑːt, — ænd jˈɛt, wɪðˌaʊt ɹᵻmˈɛmbɹəns ɔːɹ ɹᵻɡɹˈɛt aɪ wʊd ðə dˈɛd tˈuː mˌaɪt fɚɡˈɛt, slˈiːpɪŋ fˈʊl sˈaʊnd bᵻnˌiːθ ðə jˈuː, ænd ðə stɹˈuːn ɹˈoʊzmɚɹi ænd ɹˈuː.