text_original: Again he leans over the shrouded Still form of the mother and wife; Very lonely the way seems, and clouded, As he looks down the vista of life. With the sweet Christmas chimes there is blended The knell for a life that is done, And he knows that his joys are all ended And his waiting begun.
text_transcription: AGAIN HE LEANS OVER THE SHROUDED STILL FORM OF THE MOTHER AND WIFE VERY LONELY THE WAY SEEMS AND CLOUDED AS HE LOOKS DOWN THE VISTA OF LIFE WITH THE SWEET CHRISTMAS CHIMES THERE SPLENDID THE KNELL FOR A LIFE THAT IS DONE AND HE KNOWS THAT HIS JOYS ARE ALL ENDED AND HIS WAITING BEGUN
phonemes: ɐɡˈɛn hiː lˈiːnz ˌoʊvɚ ðə ʃɹˈaʊdᵻd stˈɪl fˈɔːɹm ʌvðə mˈʌðɚ ænd wˈaɪf; vˈɛɹi lˈoʊnli ðə wˈeɪ sˈiːmz, ænd klˈaʊdᵻd, æz hiː lˈʊks dˌaʊn ðə vˈɪstə ʌv lˈaɪf. wɪððə swˈiːt kɹˈɪsməs tʃˈaɪmz ðɛɹ ɪz blˈɛndᵻd ðə nˈɛl fɚɹə lˈaɪf ðæt ɪz dˈʌn, ænd hiː nˈoʊz ðæt hɪz dʒˈɔɪz ɑːɹ ˈɔːl ˈɛndᵻd ænd hɪz wˈeɪɾɪŋ bɪɡˈʌn.