text_original: CLEMENT MONTGOMERY LETTER IX FROM SIBELLA VALMONT TO CAROLINE ASHBURN It is now a week since, one evening at sunset, I carried your letters, and that portrait painted by Clement in the days when we knew no sorrow, into the wood; where, shutting out every remembrance, save those of love and friendship, I was for a time wrapped in the sublimity of happiness.
text_transcription: FENWICK VOLUME ONE LETTER NINE FROM CYBELA VALMONT TO CAROLINE ASHBURN IT IS NOW A WEEK SINCE ONE EVENING AT SUNSET I CARRIED YOUR LETTERS AND THAT PORTRAIT PAINTED BY CLEMENT IN THE DAYS WHEN WE KNEW NO SORROW INTO THE WOOD WHERE SHUTTING OUT EVERY REMEMBRANCE SAVE THOSE OF LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP I WAS FOR A TIME WRAPPED IN THE SUBLIMITY OF HAPPINESS
phonemes: klˈɛmənt mɑːntɡˈɑːmɚɹi lˈɛɾɚ ɹˌoʊmən nˈaɪn fɹʌm saɪbˈɛlə vˈælmɔnt tuː kˈæɹəlˌaɪn ˈæʃbɜːn ɪɾ ɪz nˈaʊ ɐ wˈiːk sˈɪns, wˈʌn ˈiːvnɪŋ æt sˈʌnsɛt, aɪ kˈæɹid jʊɹ lˈɛɾɚz, ænd ðæt pˈɔːɹtɹɪt pˈeɪntᵻd baɪ klˈɛmənt ɪnðə dˈeɪz wɛn wiː nˈuː nˈoʊ sˈɑːɹoʊ, ˌɪntʊ ðə wˈʊd; wˈɛɹ, ʃˈʌɾɪŋ ˈaʊt ˈɛvɹi ɹᵻmˈɛmbɹəns, sˈeɪv ðoʊz ʌv lˈʌv ænd fɹˈɛndʃɪp, aɪ wʌz fɚɹə tˈaɪm ɹˈæpt ɪnðə sʌblˈɪmᵻɾi ʌv hˈæpɪnəs.