text_original: No touch of love, no hint of fame, no hours of ease, lie for you across the knees of Fate. Neither rose nor laurel will be shed on your coffined form. Meanwhile, your sister writes and dreams for Shirley.
text_transcription: NO TOUCH OF LOVE NO HINT OF FAME NO HOURS OF EASE LIE FOR YOU ACROSS THE KNEES OF FATE NEITHER ROSE NOR LAUREL WILL BE SHED ON YOUR COFFIN FORM MEANWHILE YOUR SISTER WRITES AND DREAMS FOR SURELY
phonemes: nˈoʊ tˈʌtʃ ʌv lˈʌv, nˈoʊ hˈɪnt ʌv fˈeɪm, nˈoʊ ˈaʊɚz ʌv ˈiːz, lˈaɪ fɔːɹ juː əkɹˌɑːs ðə nˈiːz ʌv fˈeɪt. nˈiːðɚ ɹˈoʊz nˈɔːɹ lˈɔːɹəl wɪl biː ʃˈɛd ˌɔn jʊɹ kˈɔfaɪnd fˈɔːɹm. mˈiːnwaɪl, jʊɹ sˈɪstɚ ɹˈaɪts ænd dɹˈiːmz fɔːɹ ʃˈɜːli.