text_original: I glanced for the last time around the rude cabin, every timber of which was dedicated to our sacrifices and our love: the fireplace with its rough stones, on the pegs the quaint butternut garments which Polly Ann had stitched, the baby in his bark cradle, the rough bedstead and the little trundle pushed under it,  and the very homely odor of the place is dear to me yet.
text_transcription: I GLANCED FOR THE LAST TIME AROUND THE RUDE CABIN EVERY TIMBER OF WHICH WAS DEDICATED TO OUR SACRIFICES AND OUR LOVE THE FIREPLACE WITH ITS ROUGH STONES ON THE PEGS THE QUAINT BUTTERNUT GARMENTS WHICH POLLYANNE HAD STITCHED THE BABY IN HIS BARK CRADLE THE ROUGH BEDSTEAD AND THE LITTLE TRUNDLE PUSHED UNDER IT AND THE VERY HOMELY ODOR OF THE PLACE IS DEAR TO ME YET
phonemes: aɪ ɡlˈænst fɚðə lˈæst tˈaɪm ɚɹˈaʊnd ðə ɹˈuːd kˈæbɪn, ˈɛvɹi tˈɪmbɚ ʌvwˈɪtʃ wʌz dˈɛdᵻkˌeɪɾᵻd tʊ ˌaʊɚ sˈækɹᵻfˌaɪsᵻz ænd ˌaʊɚ lˈʌv: ðə fˈaɪɚpleɪs wɪð ɪts ɹˈʌf stˈoʊnz, ɔnðə pˈɛɡz ðə kwˈeɪnt bˈʌtɚnˌʌt ɡˈɑːɹmənts wˌɪtʃ pˈɑːli ˈæn hæd stˈɪtʃt, ðə bˈeɪbi ɪn hɪz bˈɑːɹk kɹˈeɪdəl, ðə ɹˈʌf bˈɛdstɛd ænd ðə lˈɪɾəl tɹˈʌndəl pˈʊʃt ˈʌndɚɹ ɪt,  ænd ðə vˈɛɹi hˈoʊmli ˈoʊdɚɹ ʌvðə plˈeɪs ɪz dˈɪɹ tə mˌiː jˈɛt.