text_original: For the rest, the sketch is one long impassioned elegy in prose. One is astonished at the sudden creative force of expression in it It is graphic by mere power of words without any help from metaphor. It was not in Madame de Stael's nature to mourn in solitude, and we have Bonstetten's authority for the fact that the summer of 1804 was one of the most delightful which he had ever passed at the Chdteau.
text_transcription: FOR THE REST THIS SKETCH IS ONE LONG IMPASSIONED ELEGY IN PROSE ONE IS ASTONISHED AT THE SUDDEN CREATIVE FORCE OF EXPRESSION IN IT IT IS GRAPHIC BY MERE POWER OF WORDS WITHOUT ANY HELP FROM METAPHOR IT WAS NOT IN MADAME DE STAEL'S NATURE TO MOURN AND SOLITUDE AND WE HAVE BONCHETIN'S AUTHORITY FOR THE FACT THAT THE SUMMER OF EIGHTEEN O FOUR WAS ONE OF THE MOST DELIGHTFUL WHICH HE HAD EVER PASSED AT THE CHATEAU
phonemes: fɚðə ɹˈɛst, ðə skˈɛtʃ ɪz wˈʌn lˈɔŋ ɪmpˈæʃənd ˈɛlɪdʒi ɪn pɹˈoʊz. wˈʌn ɪz ɐstˈɑːnɪʃt æt ðə sˈʌdən kɹiːˈeɪɾɪv fˈɔːɹs ʌv ɛkspɹˈɛʃən ɪn ɪɾ ɪɾ ɪz ɡɹˈæfɪk baɪ mˈɪɹ pˈaʊɚɹ ʌv wˈɜːdz wɪðˌaʊt ˌɛni hˈɛlp fɹʌm mˈɛɾəfˌɔːɹ. ɪt wʌz nˌɑːt ɪn mˈædəm də stˈeɪlz nˈeɪtʃɚ tə mˈɔːɹn ɪn sˈɑːlɪtˌuːd, ænd wiː hæv bˈɑːnstɪʔˌn̩z ɐθˈɔːɹɪɾi fɚðə fˈækt ðætðə sˈʌmɚɹ ʌv wˈʌn θˈaʊzənd ˈeɪthˈʌndɹɪd fˈɔːɹ wʌz wˈʌn ʌvðə mˈoʊst dᵻlˈaɪtfəl wˌɪtʃ hiː hæd ˈɛvɚ pˈæst æt ðə sˌiːˌeɪtʃdˈiːtˈoʊ.