text_original: A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel   That blue blade that the king's son bears,  but this Blunt thing  !" he snapt and flung it from his hand, And lowering crept away and left the field.
text_transcription: A CRAVEN HUNG ALONG THE BATTLE'S EDGE AND THOUGHT HAD I A SWORD OF KEENER STEEL THAT BLUE BLADE THAT THE KING'S SON BEARS BUT THIS BLUNT THING HE SNAPPED AND FLUNG IT FROM HIS HAND AND LOWERING CREPT AWAY AND LEFT THE FIELD
phonemes: ɐ kɹˈeɪvən hˈʌŋ ɐlˈɔŋ ðə bˈæɾəlz ˈɛdʒ, ænd θˈɔːt, "hæd aɪ ɐ sˈɔːɹd ʌv kˈiːnɚ stˈiːl ðæt blˈuː blˈeɪd ðætðə kˈɪŋz sˈʌn bˈɛɹz,  bˌʌt ðɪs blˈʌnt θˈɪŋ  !" hiː snˈæpt ænd flˈʌŋ ɪt fɹʌm hɪz hˈænd, ænd lˈoʊɚɹɪŋ kɹˈɛpt ɐwˈeɪ ænd lˈɛft ðə fˈiːld.