text_original: Some lives need less than others.  Who can ever Say truly "Thou art mine," of Happiness? Death comes to all. And one, to day, is never Sure of to morrow, that may ban or bless; And what's beyond is but a shadowy guess. "All, all is vanity," the preacher sighs; And in this world what has more right than Wrong? Come! let us hush remembrance with a song, And learn with folly to be glad and wise.
text_transcription: SOME LIVES NEED LESS THAN OTHERS WHO CAN EVER SAY TRULY THOU ART MINE OF HAPPINESS DEATH COMES TO ALL AND ONE TO DAY IS NEVER SURE OF TO MORROW THAT MAY BEN OR BLESS AND WHAT'S BEYOND IS BUT A SHADOWY GUESS ALL ALL IS VANITY THE PREACHER SIGHS AND IN THIS WORLD WHAT HAS MORE RIGHT THAN WRONG COME LET US HUSH REMEMBRANCE WITH A SONG AND LEARN WITH FOLLY TO BE GLAD AND WISE
phonemes: sˌʌm lˈaɪvz nˈiːd lˈɛs ðɐn ˈʌðɚz.  hˌuː kæn ˈɛvɚ sˈeɪ tɹˈuːli "ðˈaʊ ˈɑːɹt mˈaɪn," ʌv hˈæpɪnəs? dˈɛθ kˈʌmz tʊ ˈɔːl. ænd wˌʌn, tə dˈeɪ, ɪz nˈɛvɚ ʃˈʊɹ ʌv tə mˈɑːɹoʊ, ðæt mˈeɪ bˈæn ɔːɹ blˈɛs; ænd wʌts bᵻjˌɔnd ɪz bˌʌt ɐ ʃˈædoʊi ɡˈɛs. "ˈɔːl, ˈɔːl ɪz vˈænᵻɾi," ðə pɹˈiːtʃɚ sˈaɪz; ænd ɪn ðɪs wˈɜːld wʌt hɐz mˈɔːɹ ɹˈaɪt ðɐn ɹˈɔŋ? kˈʌm! lˈɛt ˌʌs hˈʌʃ ɹᵻmˈɛmbɹəns wɪð ɐ sˈɔŋ, ænd lˈɜːn wɪð fˈɑːli təbi ɡlˈæd ænd wˈaɪz.