text_original: "But it is love," said the lady, in a low tone. He broke into laughter. "Sally," he cried, "I have visions of you gracing the board at which we sat to day, patting journey cakes on the hearth, stewing squirrel broth with the same pride that you once planned a rout. Cleaning the pots and pans, and standing anxious at the doorway staring through a sunbonnet for your lord and master." "My lord and master!"
text_transcription: BUT IT IS LOVE SAID THE LADY IN A LOW TONE HE BROKE INTO LAUGHTER SALLY HE CRIED I HAVE VISIONS OF YOU GRACING THE BOARD AT WHICH WE SAT TO DAY PATTING JOURNEY CAKES ON THE HEARTH STIRRING SQUIRREL BROTH WITH THE SAME PRIDE THAT YOU ONCE PLANNED A ROUTE CLEANING THE POTS AND PANS AND STANDING ANXIOUS AT THE DOORWAY STARING THROUGH A SUNBONNET FOR YOUR LORD AND MASTER MY LORD AND MASTER
phonemes: "bˌʌt ɪɾ ɪz lˈʌv," sˈɛd ðə lˈeɪdi, ɪn ɐ lˈoʊ tˈoʊn. hiː bɹˈoʊk ˌɪntʊ lˈæftɚ. "sˈæli," hiː kɹˈaɪd, "aɪ hæv vˈɪʒənz ʌv juː ɡɹˈeɪsɪŋ ðə bˈɔːɹd æt wˌɪtʃ wiː sˈæt tə dˈeɪ, pˈæɾɪŋ dʒˈɜːni kˈeɪks ɔnðə hˈɑːɹθ, stˈuːɪŋ skwˈɜːl bɹˈɑːθ wɪððə sˈeɪm pɹˈaɪd ðæt juː wˈʌns plˈænd ɐ ɹˈaʊt. klˈiːnɪŋ ðə pˈɑːts ænd pˈænz, ænd stˈændɪŋ ˈæŋʃəs æt ðə dˈɔːɹweɪ stˈɛɹɪŋ θɹuː ɐ sˈʌnbɑːnɪt fɔːɹ jʊɹ lˈɔːɹd ænd mˈæstɚ." "maɪ lˈɔːɹd ænd mˈæstɚ!"