Written in March

  THE cock is crowing,
  The stream is flowing,
  The small birds twitter,
  The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
  The oldest and youngest
  Are at work with the strongest;
  The cattle are grazing,
  Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

  Like an army defeated
  The snow hath retreated,
  And now doth fare ill
  On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping- anon-anon:
  There's joy in the mountains;
  There's life in the fountains;
  Small clouds are sailing,
  Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!
William Wordsworth
from http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/words01.html#7 
This is the one minute sample text people were reading for various recording devices and microphones
 
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