text_original: ' Your roses !' cried Daphne, with a contemptuous glance at the closely pruned twigs of the standards, which at this early period looked as if they would never flower again.
text_transcription: ROSES CRIED DAPHNE WITH A CONTEMPTUOUS GLANCE AT THE CLOSELY PRUNED TWIGS OF THE STANDARDS WHICH AT THIS EARLY PERIOD LOOKED AS IF THEY WOULD NEVER FLOWER AGAIN
phonemes: jʊɹ ɹˈoʊzᵻz !kɹˈaɪd dˈæfni, wɪð ɐ kəntˈɛmptʃuːəs ɡlˈæns æt ðə klˈoʊsli pɹˈuːnd twˈɪɡz ʌvðə stˈændɚdz, wˌɪtʃ æt ðɪs ˈɜːli pˈiəɹɪəd lˈʊkt æz ɪf ðeɪ wʊd nˈɛvɚ flˈaʊɚɹ ɐɡˈɛn.