text_original: She felt as if she were out in the winter darkness on the wind swept common, as if her hands were clutching the edge of the Divine raiment. Was not that sublime vision something more than a dream in a stuffy Methodist chapel?
text_transcription: SHE FELT AS IF SHE WERE OUT IN THE WINTER DARKNESS ON THE WIND SWEPT COMMON AS IF HER HANDS WERE CLUTCHING THE EDGE OF THE DIVINE RAIMENT WAS NOT THAT SUBLIME VISION SOMETHING MORE THAN A DREAM IN A STUFFY METHODIST CHAPEL
phonemes: ʃiː fˈɛlt æz ɪf ʃiː wɜːɹ ˈaʊt ɪnðə wˈɪntɚ dˈɑːɹknəs ɔnðə wˈɪnd swˈɛpt kˈɑːmən, æz ɪf hɜː hˈændz wɜː klˈʌtʃɪŋ ðɪ ˈɛdʒ ʌvðə dᵻvˈaɪn ɹˈeɪmənt. wʌz nˌɑːt ðæt sʌblˈaɪm vˈɪʒən sˈʌmθɪŋ mˈɔːɹ ðˌænə dɹˈiːm ɪn ɐ stˈʌfi mˈɛθədˌɪst tʃˈæpəl?