text_original: As the sun got up in the heavens and the wind fell, the cupola became a bake oven. But I scarcely felt the heat. My whole soul was out in the bay, pent up with the men in the fort. How long could they hold out? Why were they not all killed by the shot that fell like hail among them? Yet puff after puff sprang from their guns, and the sound of it was like a storm coming nearer in the heat.
text_transcription: AS THE SUN GOT UP IN THE HEAVENS AND THE WIND FELL THE CUPOLA BECAME A BAKE OVEN BUT I SCARCELY FELT THE HEAT MY WHOLE SOUL WAS OUT IN THE BAY PENT UP WITH THE MEN IN THE FORT HOW LONG COULD THEY HOLD OUT WHY WERE THEY NOT ALL KILLED BY THE SHOT THAT FELL LIKE A HAIL AMONG THEM YET PUFF AFTER PUFF SPRANG FROM THEIR GUNS AND THE SOUND OF IT WAS LIKE A STORM COMING NEARER IN THE HEAT
phonemes: æz ðə sˈʌn ɡɑːt ˌʌp ɪnðə hˈɛvənz ænd ðə wˈɪnd fˈɛl, ðə kjuːpˈoʊlə bɪkˌeɪm ɐ bˈeɪk ˈʌvən. bˌʌt aɪ skˈɛɹsli fˈɛlt ðə hˈiːt. maɪ hˈoʊl sˈoʊl wʌz ˈaʊt ɪnðə bˈeɪ, pˈɛnt ˌʌp wɪððə mˈɛn ɪnðə fˈɔːɹt. hˌaʊ lˈɔŋ kʊd ðeɪ hˈoʊld ˈaʊt? wˌaɪ wɜː ðeɪ nˌɑːt ˈɔːl kˈɪld baɪ ðə ʃˈɑːt ðæt fˈɛl lˈaɪk hˈeɪl ɐmˈʌŋ ðˌɛm? jˈɛt pˈʌf ˈæftɚ pˈʌf spɹˈæŋ fɹʌm ðɛɹ ɡˈʌnz, ænd ðə sˈaʊnd ʌv ɪt wʌz lˈaɪk ɐ stˈɔːɹm kˈʌmɪŋ nˈɪɹɚɹ ɪnðə hˈiːt.