text_original: It was almost dark, and the dew falling fast; I roused my spaniel to go in. Over the high walled yard, the barns, the moon white porch, dusk had brushed its velvet. Through an open window came a roaring sound. Mr. Molton was singing "The Happy Warrior," to celebrate the finish of the shearing. The big doors into the garden, passed through, cut off the full sweetness of that song; for there the owls were already masters of night with their music.
text_transcription: IT WAS ALMOST DARK AND THE DEW FALLING FAST I ROUSED MY SPANIEL TO GO IN OVER THE HIGH WALLED YARD THE BARNS THE MOON WHITE PORCH DUSK HAD BRUSHED ITS VELVET THROUGH AN OPEN WINDOW CAME A ROARING SOUND MISTER MOULTON WAS SINGING THE HAPPY WARRIOR TO CELEBRATE THE FINISH OF THE SHARING THE BIG DOORS INTO THE GARDEN PASSED THROUGH CUT OFF THE FULL SWEETNESS OF THAT SONG FOR THERE THE OWLS WERE ALREADY MASTERS OF NIGHT WITH THEIR MUSIC
phonemes: ɪt wʌz ˈɔːlmoʊst dˈɑːɹk, ænd ðə dˈuː fˈɔːlɪŋ fˈæst; aɪ ɹˈaʊzd maɪ spˈænjəl tə ɡˌoʊ ˈɪn. ˌoʊvɚ ðə hˈaɪ wˈɔːld jˈɑːɹd, ðə bˈɑːɹnz, ðə mˈuːn wˈaɪt pˈɔːɹtʃ, dˈʌsk hæd bɹˈʌʃt ɪts vˈɛlvɪt. θɹuː ɐn ˈoʊpən wˈɪndoʊ kˈeɪm ɐ ɹˈɔːɹɪŋ sˈaʊnd. mˈɪstɚ. mˈoʊltən wʌz sˈɪŋɪŋ "ðə hˈæpi wˈɔːɹɪɚ," tə sˈɛləbɹˌeɪt ðə fˈɪnɪʃ ʌvðə ʃˈɪɹɪŋ. ðə bˈɪɡ dˈɔːɹz ˌɪntʊ ðə ɡˈɑːɹdən, pˈæst θɹˈuː, kˈʌt ˈɔf ðə fˈʊl swˈiːtnəs ʌv ðæt sˈɔŋ; fɔːɹ ðɛɹ ðɪ ˈaʊlz wɜːɹ ɔːlɹˌɛdi mˈæstɚz ʌv nˈaɪt wɪð ðɛɹ mjˈuːzɪk.