text_original: I could tell you, Miss Ashburn, how I have imagined I met sympathy and reflection in that flower which enamoured of the sun mourns throughout the term of his absence, droops on her stalk, and shuts her bosom to the gloom and darkness which succeeds, nor bursts again into vigour and beauty till cheered by his all inspiring return.
text_transcription: I COULD TELL YOU MISS ASHBURN HOW I HAVE IMAGINED I MET SYMPATHY AND REFLECTION IN THAT FLOWER WHICH ENAMORED OF THE SUN MOURNS THROUGHOUT THE TERM OF HIS ABSENCE DROOPS ON HER STALK AND SHUTS HER BOSOM TO THE GLOOM AND DARKNESS WHICH SUCCEEDS NOR BURSTS AGAIN INTO VIGOUR AND BEAUTY TILL CHEERED BY HIS ALL INSPIRING RETURN
phonemes: aɪ kʊd tˈɛl juː, mˈɪs ˈæʃbɜːn, hˌaʊ aɪ hæv ɪmˈædʒɪnd aɪ mˈɛt sˈɪmpəθi ænd ɹᵻflˈɛkʃən ɪn ðæt flˈaʊɚ wˌɪtʃ ɪnˈæmɚd ʌvðə sˈʌn mˈɔːɹnz θɹuːˈaʊt ðə tˈɜːm ʌv hɪz ˈæbsəns, dɹˈuːps ˌɔn hɜː stˈɔːk, ænd ʃˈʌts hɜː bˈʊzəm tə ðə ɡlˈuːm ænd dˈɑːɹknəs wˌɪtʃ səksˈiːdz, nˈɔːɹ bˈɜːsts ɐɡˈɛn ˌɪntʊ vˈɪɡɚ ænd bjˈuːɾi tˈɪl tʃˈɪɹd baɪ hɪz ˈɔːl ɪnspˈaɪɚɹɪŋ ɹᵻtˈɜːn.