text_original: CHAPTER XIX _CONCLUSION_ "And now those vivid hours are gone, Like mine own life to me thou art. Where past and present, wound in one, Do make a garland for the heart."   TENNYSON.
text_transcription: CHAPTER NINETEEN CONCLUSION AND NOW THOSE VIVID HOURS ARE GONE LIKE MINE OWN LIFE TO ME THOU ART WHERE PAST AND PRESENT WOUND IN ONE DO MAKE A GARLAND FOR THE HEART TENNYSON
phonemes: tʃˈæptɚ ɹˌoʊmən nˈaɪntiːn kəŋklˈuːʒən "ænd nˈaʊ ðoʊz vˈɪvɪd ˈaʊɚz ɑːɹ ɡˈɔn, lˈaɪk mˈaɪn ˈoʊn lˈaɪf tə mˌiː ðˈaʊ ˈɑːɹt. wˌɛɹ pˈæst ænd pɹˈɛzənt, wˈuːnd ɪn wˌʌn, dˈuː mˌeɪk ɐ ɡˈɑːɹlənd fɚðə hˈɑːɹt."   tˈɛnɪsən.