text_original: There was a classic temple upon a hill that was like the Mount, and the day was bleak, and dark, and rainy, and she was walk  ' ing on the footpath through Lord Lostwithiel's park, with ' the storm driven rain beating against her face, just as on' that autumn evening, when the owner of the soil had taken compassion upon her and had given her shelter.
text_transcription: THERE WAS A CLASSIC TEMPLE UPON A HILL THAT WAS LIKE THE MOUNT AND THE DAY WAS BLEAK AND DARK AND RAINY AND SHE WAS WALKING ON THE FOOTPATH THROUGH LORD LOST WITH EEL'S PARK WITH THE STORM DRIVEN RAIN BEATING AGAINST HER FACE JUST AS ON THAT AUTUMN EVENING WHEN THE OWNER OF THE SOIL HAD TAKEN COMPASSION UPON HER AND HAD GIVEN HER SHELTER
phonemes: ðɛɹwˌʌz ɐ klˈæsɪk tˈɛmpəl əpˌɑːn ɐ hˈɪl ðæt wʌz lˈaɪk ðə mˈaʊnt, ænd ðə dˈeɪ wʌz blˈiːk, ænd dˈɑːɹk, ænd ɹˈeɪni, ænd ʃiː wʌz wˈɔːk ˈɪŋ ɔnðə fˈʊtpæθ θɹuː lˈɔːɹd lˈɑːstwɪðˌiːlz pˈɑːɹk, wɪð ðə stˈɔːɹm dɹˈɪvən ɹˈeɪn bˈiːɾɪŋ ɐɡˈɛnst hɜː fˈeɪs, dʒˈʌst æz ˌɔn ðæt ˈɔːɾʌm ˈiːvnɪŋ, wˌɛn ðɪ ˈoʊnɚɹ ʌvðə sˈɔɪl hæd tˈeɪkən kəmpˈæʃən əpˌɑːn hɜː ænd hæd ɡˈɪvən hɜː ʃˈɛltɚ.