text_original: It was a spot where a man might love to linger on such a night as this. The winding river, showing in fitful glimpses between its shadowy willows ; the distant woods ; the dim lights of the little quiet town ; the tall spire rising above the trees ; made up a landscape dearer to Edgar Turchill's honest English heart than all the blue mountains and vine clad val  leys of the Sunny South.
text_transcription: IT WAS A SPOT WHERE A MAN MIGHT LOVE TO LINGER ON SUCH A NIGHT AS THIS THE WINDING RIVER SHOWING IN FITFUL GLIMPSES BETWEEN ITS SHADOWY WILLOWS THE DISTANT WOODS THE DIM LIGHTS OF THE LITTLE QUIET TOWN THE TALL SPIRE RISING ABOVE THE TREES MADE UP A LANDSCAPE DEARER TO EDGAR CHURCHILL'S HONEST ENGLISH HEART THAN ALL THE BLUE MOUNTAINS AND VINE CLAD VALLEYS OF THE SUNNY SOUTH
phonemes: ɪt wʌzɐ spˈɑːt wˌɛɹ ɐ mˈæn mˌaɪt lˈʌv tə lˈɪŋɡɚɹ ˌɔn sˈʌtʃ ɐ nˈaɪt æz ðˈɪs. ðə wˈaɪndɪŋ ɹˈɪvɚ, ʃˈoʊɪŋ ɪn fˈɪtfəl ɡlˈɪmpsᵻz bᵻtwˌiːn ɪts ʃˈædoʊi wˈɪloʊz ; ðə dˈɪstənt wˈʊdz ; ðə dˈɪm lˈaɪts ʌvðə lˈɪɾəl kwˈaɪət tˈaʊn ; ðə tˈɔːl spˈaɪɚ ɹˈaɪzɪŋ əbˌʌv ðə tɹˈiːz ; mˌeɪd ˌʌp ɐ lˈændskeɪp dˈɪɹɚ tʊ ˈɛdɡɚ tˈɜːtʃɪlz ˈɑːnɪst ˈɪŋɡlɪʃ hˈɑːɹt ðɐn ˈɔːl ðə blˈuː mˈaʊntɪnz ænd vˈaɪn klˈæd vˈæl lˈeɪz ʌvðə sˈʌni sˈaʊθ.