text_original: At last, after an age of groping, the heavy scents of shrubs and flowers stole to us on the night air, and we came out at the hedge into what seemed a blaze of light that flooded the rows of color. Here we paused, breathless, and looked. The bench under the great tree was vacant, and the garden was empty. It was she who led the way through the hedge, who halted in the garden path at the sound of voices.
text_transcription: AT LAST AFTER AN AGE OF GROPING THE HEAVY SCENTS OF SHRUBS AND FLOWERS STOLE TO US ON THE NIGHT AIR AND WE CAME OUT OF THE HEDGE INTO WHAT SEEMED A BLAZE OF LIGHT THAT FLOODED THE ROSE OF COLOR HERE WE PAUSED BREATHLESS AND LOOKED THE BENCH UNDER THE GREY TREE WAS VACANT AND THE GARDEN WAS EMPTY IT WAS SHE WHO LED THE WAY THROUGH THE HEDGE WHO HALTED IN THE GARDEN PATH AT THE SOUND OF VOICES
phonemes: æt lˈæst, ˈæftɚɹ ɐn ˈeɪdʒ ʌv ɡɹˈoʊpɪŋ, ðə hˈɛvi sˈɛnts ʌv ʃɹˈʌbz ænd flˈaʊɚz stˈoʊl tʊ ˌʌs ɔnðə nˈaɪt ˈɛɹ, ænd wiː kˈeɪm ˈaʊt æt ðə hˈɛdʒ ˌɪntʊ wʌt sˈiːmd ɐ blˈeɪz ʌv lˈaɪt ðæt flˈʌdᵻd ðə ɹˈoʊz ʌv kˈʌlɚ. hˈɪɹ wiː pˈɔːzd, bɹˈɛθləs, ænd lˈʊkt. ðə bˈɛntʃ ˌʌndɚ ðə ɡɹˈeɪt tɹˈiː wʌz vˈeɪkənt, ænd ðə ɡˈɑːɹdən wʌz ˈɛmpti. ɪt wʌz ʃiː hˌuː lˈɛd ðə wˈeɪ θɹuː ðə hˈɛdʒ, hˌuː hˈɔltᵻd ɪnðə ɡˈɑːɹdən pˈæθ æt ðə sˈaʊnd ʌv vˈɔɪsᵻz.