text_original: In the morn he scorned us rarely, but he fairly found his error, When his force was made our ready blows to feel; When his horsemen and his footmen fled in wild and pallid terror At the leaping of our bullets and the sweeping of our steel.
text_transcription: IN THE MORN HE SCORNED US RARELY BUT HE FAIRLY FOUND HIS ERROR WHEN HIS FORCE WAS MADE ALREADY BLOWS TO FEEL WHEN HIS HORSEMEN AND HIS FOOTMEN FLED IN WILD AND PALLID TERROR AT THE LEAPING OF OUR BULLETS AND THE SWEEPING OF OUR STEEL
phonemes: ɪnðə mˈɔːɹn hiː skˈɔːɹnd ˌʌs ɹˈɛɹli, bˌʌt hiː fˈɛɹli fˈaʊnd hɪz ˈɛɹɚ, wˌɛn hɪz fˈɔːɹs wʌz mˌeɪd ˌaʊɚ ɹˈɛdi blˈoʊz tə fˈiːl; wˌɛn hɪz hˈɔːɹsmɛn ænd hɪz fˈʊtmɛn flˈɛd ɪn wˈaɪld ænd pˈælɪd tˈɛɹɚɹ æt ðə lˈiːpɪŋ ʌv ˌaʊɚ bˈʊlɪts ænd ðə swˈiːpɪŋ ʌv ˌaʊɚ stˈiːl.