text_original: Sky, flower and sod, he loved them all. 130 PERSONAL POEMS From all he wrote (not for his day), A sense of marvel drifts to me — Of morning on a purple sea, And fragrant islands far away.
text_transcription: SKY FLOWER AND SOD HE LOVED THEM ALL FROM ALL HE WROTE NOT FOR HIS STAY A SENSE OF MARVEL DRIFTS TO ME OF MOURNING ON A PURPLED SEA AND FRAGRANT ISLANDS FAR AWAY
phonemes: skˈaɪ, flˈaʊɚɹ ænd sˈɑːd, hiː lˈʌvd ðˌɛm ˈɔːl. wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd θˈɜːɾi pˈɜːsənəl pˈoʊᵻmz fɹʌm ˈɔːl hiː ɹˈoʊt (nˌɑːt fɔːɹ hɪz dˈeɪ), ɐ sˈɛns ʌv mˈɑːɹvəl dɹˈɪfts tə mˌiː — ʌv mˈɔːɹnɪŋ ˌɔn ɐ pˈɜːpəl sˈiː, ænd fɹˈeɪɡɹənt ˈaɪləndz fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ.