text_original: There was no sound save the languid morning notes of the birds and the humming of the bees among the flowers as Antoinette went tremblingly down the path and paused, listening, under the branches of that oak where I had first beheld her.
text_transcription: THERE WAS NO SOUND SAVE THE LANGUID MOURNING NOTES OF THE BIRDS AND THE HUMMING OF THE BEES AMONG THE FLOWERS AS ANTOINETTE WENT TREMBLING DOWN THE PATH AND PAUSED LISTENING ON TO THE BRANCHES OF THAT OAK WHERE I HAD FIRST BEHELD HER
phonemes: ðɛɹwˌʌz nˈoʊ sˈaʊnd sˈeɪv ðə lˈæŋɡwɪd mˈɔːɹnɪŋ nˈoʊts ʌvðə bˈɜːdz ænd ðə hˈʌmɪŋ ʌvðə bˈiːz ɐmˌʌŋ ðə flˈaʊɚz æz ˌæntɔɪnˈɛt wɛnt tɹˈɛmblɪŋli dˌaʊn ðə pˈæθ ænd pˈɔːzd, lˈɪsənɪŋ, ˌʌndɚ ðə bɹˈæntʃᵻz ʌv ðæt ˈoʊk wˌɛɹ aɪ hæd fˈɜːst bᵻhˈɛld hɜː.