text_original: Every puff of wind was sweet with the breath of violets; birds sang their old carols  now two or three clear notes  now a shake  then a long whistle. All God's works praised Him in the freshness of their new life.
text_transcription: EVERY PUFF OF WIND WAS SWEET WITH THE BREATH OF VIOLETS BIRDS SANG THEIR OLD CAROLS NOW TWO OR THREE CLEAR NOTES NOW A SHAKE THEN A LONG WHISTLE ALL GOD'S WORKS PRAISED HIM IN THE FRESHNESS OF THEIR NEW LIFE
phonemes: ˈɛvɹi pˈʌf ʌv wˈɪnd wʌz swˈiːt wɪððə bɹˈɛθ ʌv vˈaɪəlɪts; bˈɜːdz sˈæŋ ðɛɹ ˈoʊld kˈæɹəlz nˈaʊ tˈuː ɔːɹ θɹˈiː klˈɪɹ nˈoʊts nˈaʊ ɐ ʃˈeɪk ðˈɛn ɐ lˈɔŋ wˈɪsəl. ˈɔːl ɡˈɑːdz wˈɜːks pɹˈeɪzd hˌɪm ɪnðə fɹˈɛʃnəs ʌv ðɛɹ nˈuː lˈaɪf.