text_original: A moment only he feels the spell Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread Of the lonely belfry and the dead; For suddenly all his thoughts are bent On a shadowy something far away, Where the river widens to meet the bay,   A line of black that bends and floats On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
text_transcription: A MOMENT ONLY HE FEELS THE SPELL OF THE PLACE AND THE HOUR AND THE SECRET DREAD OF THE LONELY BELFRY AND THE DEAD FOR SUDDENLY ALL HIS THOUGHTS ARE BENT ON A SHADOWY SOMETHING FAR AWAY WHERE THE RIVER WIDENS TO MEET THE BAY A LINE OF BLACK THAT BENDS AND FLOATS ON THE RISING TIDE LIKE A BRIDGE OF BOATS MEANWHILE IMPATIENCE A MOUNTAIN RIDE BOOTED AND SPURRED WITH A HEAVY STRIDE ON THE OPPOSITE SHORE WALKED PARROVER
phonemes: ɐ mˈoʊmənt ˈoʊnli hiː fˈiːlz ðə spˈɛl ʌvðə plˈeɪs ænd ðɪ ˈaʊɚ, ænd ðə sˈiːkɹᵻt dɹˈɛd ʌvðə lˈoʊnli bˈɛlfɹi ænd ðə dˈɛd; fɔːɹ sˈʌdənli ˈɔːl hɪz θˈɔːts ɑːɹ bˈɛnt ˌɔn ɐ ʃˈædoʊi sˈʌmθɪŋ fˈɑːɹ ɐwˈeɪ, wˌɛɹ ðə ɹˈɪvɚ wˈaɪdənz tə mˈiːt ðə bˈeɪ,   ɐ lˈaɪn ʌv blˈæk ðæt bˈɛndz ænd flˈoʊts ɔnðə ɹˈaɪzɪŋ tˈaɪd, lˈaɪk ɐ bɹˈɪdʒ ʌv bˈoʊts. mˈiːnwaɪl, ɪmpˈeɪʃənt tə mˈaʊnt ænd ɹˈaɪd, bˈuːɾᵻd ænd spˈɜːd, wɪð ɐ hˈɛvi stɹˈaɪd ɔnðɪ ˈɑːpəzˌɪt ʃˈɔːɹ wˈɔːkt pˈɔːl ɹᵻvˈɪɹ.