text_original: One June evening, when the orchards were pink blossomed again, when the frogs were singing silverly sweet in the marshes about the head of the Lake of Shining Waters, and the air was full of the savor of clover fields and balsamic fir woods, Anne was sitting by her gable window.
text_transcription: ONE JUNE EVENING WHEN THE ORCHARDS WERE PINK BLOSSOMED AGAIN WHEN THE FROGS WERE SINGING SILVERLY SWEET IN THE MARSHES ABOUT THE HEAD OF THE LAKE OF SHINING WATERS AND THE AIR WAS FULL OF SAVOUR OF CLOVER FIELDS AND BALSAMIC FIR WOODS AND WAS SITTING BY HER GABLE WINDOW
phonemes: wˈʌn dʒˈuːn ˈiːvnɪŋ, wˌɛn ðɪ ˈɔːɹtʃɚdz wɜː pˈɪŋk blˈɔsəmd ɐɡˈɛn, wˌɛn ðə fɹˈɑːɡz wɜː sˈɪŋɪŋ sˈɪlvɚli swˈiːt ɪnðə mˈɑːɹʃᵻz ɐbˌaʊt ðə hˈɛd ʌvðə lˈeɪk ʌv ʃˈaɪnɪŋ wˈɔːɾɚz, ænd ðɪ ˈɛɹ wʌz fˈʊl ʌvðə sˈeɪvɚɹ ʌv klˈoʊvɚ fˈiːldz ænd bɔːlsˈæmɪk fˈɜː wˈʊdz, ˈæn wʌz sˈɪɾɪŋ baɪ hɜː ɡˈeɪbəl wˈɪndoʊ.