text_original: Then through a gate we came on to the moor, amongst whitened furze. The mist thickened. A curlew was whistling on its invisible way, far up; and that wistful, wild calling seemed the very voice of the day.
text_transcription: THEN THROUGH A GATE WE CAME ON TO THE MOOR AMONG SWIGHTED FIRS THE MIST THICKENED A CURDY WAS WHISTLING ON ITS INVISIBLE WAY FAR UP AND THAT WISTFUL WILD CALLING SEEMED THE VERY VOICE OF THE DAY
phonemes: ðˈɛn θɹuː ɐ ɡˈeɪt wiː kˈeɪm ˌɔn tə ðə mˈʊɹ, ɐmˌʌŋst wˈaɪʔn̩d fˈɜːz. ðə mˈɪst θˈɪkənd. ɐ kˈɜːluː wʌz wˈɪsəlɪŋ ˌɔn ɪts ɪnvˈɪzᵻbəl wˈeɪ, fˈɑːɹ ˈʌp; ænd ðæt wˈɪstfəl, wˈaɪld kˈɔːlɪŋ sˈiːmd ðə vˈɛɹi vˈɔɪs ʌvðə dˈeɪ.