text_original: I fancy, Captain, that in these confounded Black Pillar gorges, through which the wind rushes like a torrent let loose, we shall not be as warm to  night as if we were flames dancing on the hearth."
text_transcription: I FANCY CAPTAIN THAT IN THESE CONFOUNDED BLACK PILLAR GORGES THROUGH WHICH THE WIND RUSHES LIKE A TORRENT LET LOOSE WE SHALL NOT BE AS WARM TO NIGHT AS IF WE WERE FLAMES STANCING ON THE HEARTH
phonemes: aɪ fˈænsi, kˈæptɪn, ðæt ɪn ðiːz kənfˈaʊndᵻd blˈæk pˈɪlɚ ɡˈɔːɹdʒᵻz, θɹuː wˌɪtʃ ðə wˈɪnd ɹˈʌʃᵻz lˈaɪk ɐ tˈɔɹənt lˈɛt lˈuːs, wiːʃˌɐl nˌɑːt biː æz wˈɔːɹm tə nˈaɪt æz ɪf wiː wɜː flˈeɪmz dˈænsɪŋ ɔnðə hˈɑːɹθ."