text_original: Dark and wild, from his deck St. Estienne gazed about, On fire wasted dwellings, And silent redoubt; From the low, shattered walls Which the flame had o'errun, There floated no banner, There thundered no gun! But beneath the low arch Of its doorway there stood A pale priest of Rome, In his cloak and his hood.
text_transcription: DARK AND WILD FROM HIS DECK SAINTESTIN GAZED ABOUT ON FIRE WASTED DWELLINGS IN SILENT REDOUBT FROM THE LOW SHATTERED WALLS WHICH THE FLAME HAD O'ERRUN THERE FLOATED NO BANNER THEIR THUNDER NO GUN BUT BENEATH THE LOW ARCH OF THE DOORWAY THERE STOOD A PALE PRIEST OF ROME IN HIS CLOAK AND HIS HOOD
phonemes: dˈɑːɹk ænd wˈaɪld, fɹʌm hɪz dˈɛk sənt. ˈɛsʃən ɡˈeɪzd ɐbˈaʊt, ˌɔn fˈaɪɚ wˈeɪstᵻd dwˈɛlɪŋz, ænd sˈaɪlənt ɹᵻdˈaʊt; fɹʌmðə lˈoʊ, ʃˈæɾɚd wˈɔːlz wˌɪtʃ ðə flˈeɪm hæd ˈɔːɹʌn, ðɛɹ flˈoʊɾᵻd nˈoʊ bˈænɚ, ðɛɹ θˈʌndɚd nˈoʊ ɡˈʌn! bˌʌt bᵻnˌiːθ ðə lˈoʊ ˈɑːɹtʃ ʌv ɪts dˈɔːɹweɪ ðɛɹ stˈʊd ɐ pˈeɪl pɹˈiːst ʌv ɹˈoʊm, ɪn hɪz klˈoʊk ænd hɪz hˈʊd.