text_original: Nature herself, spring, summer, autumn, degenerate into sameness. Where must I turn me then, but to the resources of my own heart?
text_transcription: NATURE HERSELF SPRING SUMMER AUTUMN DEGENERATE INTO SAMENESS WHERE MUST I TURN ME THEN BUT TO THE RESOURCES OF MY OWN HEART
phonemes: nˈeɪtʃɚ hɜːsˈɛlf, spɹˈɪŋ, sˈʌmɚ, ˈɔːɾʌm, dᵻdʒˈɛnɚɹˌeɪt ˌɪntʊ sˈeɪmnəs. wˌɛɹ mˈʌst aɪ tˈɜːn mˌiː ðˈɛn, bˌʌt tə ðə ɹᵻsˈɔːɹsᵻz ʌv maɪ ˈoʊn hˈɑːɹt?