text_original: It was not swooning, for I knew I was there.  I felt the cold wind blow on my face, but my limbs had lost their faculty, and my eye sight its power.  A chill oppressive gripe seemed to fasten on my heart.
text_transcription: IT WAS NOT SWOONING FOR I KNEW I WAS THERE I FELT A COLD WIND BLOW ON MY FACE BUT MY LIMBS HAD LOST THEIR FACULTY AND MY EYES SIGHT ITS POWER A CHILL OPPRESSIVE GRIPE SEEMED TO FASTEN ON MY HEART
phonemes: ɪt wʌz nˌɑːt swˈuːnɪŋ, fɔːɹ aɪ nˈuː aɪ wʌz ðˈɛɹ.  aɪ fˈɛlt ðə kˈoʊld wˈɪnd blˈoʊ ˌɔn maɪ fˈeɪs, bˌʌt maɪ lˈɪmz hæd lˈɔst ðɛɹ fˈækəlti, ænd maɪ ˈaɪ sˈaɪt ɪts pˈaʊɚ.  ɐ tʃˈɪl əpɹˈɛsɪv ɡɹˈaɪp sˈiːmd tə fˈæsən ˌɔn maɪ hˈɑːɹt.