text_original: "But what of my lady?" Cried Charles of Estienne. "On the shot crumbled turret Thy lady was seen: "Half veiled in the smoke cloud, Her hand grasped thy pennon, While her dark tresses swayed In the hot breath of cannon!
text_transcription: BUT WHAT OF MY LADY CRIED CHARLES OF VESTIN ON THE SHARP CRUMBLED TURRET THY LADY WAS SEEN HALF BEGGLED IN THE SMOKE CLOUD HER HAND GRASPED THY PINNON WHERE A DARK TRESS IS SWAYED IN THE HOT BREATH OF CANNON
phonemes: "bˌʌt wʌt ʌv maɪ lˈeɪdi?" kɹˈaɪd tʃˈɑːɹlz ʌv ˈɛsʃən. "ɔnðə ʃˈɑːt kɹˈʌmbəld tˈɜːɹɪt ðˌaɪ lˈeɪdi wʌz sˈiːn: "hˈæf vˈeɪld ɪnðə smˈoʊk klˈaʊd, hɜː hˈænd ɡɹˈæspt ðˌaɪ pˈɛnən, wˌaɪl hɜː dˈɑːɹk tɹˈɛsᵻz swˈeɪd ɪnðə hˈɑːt bɹˈɛθ ʌv kˈænən!