text_original: Lee grew crimson in his anger  rang his curses o'er the clangor, O'er the roaring din of battle, as he wrathfully replied; But his raging was unheeded; fastly on our chieftain speeded, Rallied quick the fleeing forces, stayed the dark, retreating tide; Then, on foaming steed returning, said to Lee, with wrath still burning, "Will you now strike a blow at the foe?"
text_transcription: LEE GREW CRIMSON IN HIS ANGER RANG HIS COURSES O'ER THE CLANGOR OR THE ROARING DIN OF BATTLE AS HE WRATHFULLY REPLIED BUT HIS RAGING WAS UNHEEDED FASTLY ON OUR CHIEFTAIN SPEEDED RALLIED QUICK THE FLEEING FORCES STAYED THE DARK RETREATING TIDE THEN ON FOAMING STEED RETURNING SAID TO LEE WITH WRATH STILL BURNING WILL YOU NOW STRIKE A BLOW AT THE FOE
phonemes: lˈiː ɡɹˈuː kɹˈɪmsən ɪn hɪz ˈæŋɡɚ ɹˈæŋ hɪz kˈɜːsᵻz ˈɔːɹ ðə klˈæŋɡɚ, ˈɔːɹ ðə ɹˈɔːɹɪŋ dˈɪn ʌv bˈæɾəl, æz hiː ɹˈæθfəli ɹᵻplˈaɪd; bˌʌt hɪz ɹˈeɪdʒɪŋ wʌz ʌnhˈiːdᵻd; fˈæstli ˌɔn ˌaʊɚ tʃˈiːftən spˈiːdᵻd, ɹˈælid kwˈɪk ðə flˈiːɪŋ fˈɔːɹsᵻz, stˈeɪd ðə dˈɑːɹk, ɹᵻtɹˈiːɾɪŋ tˈaɪd; ðˈɛn, ˌɔn fˈoʊmɪŋ stˈiːd ɹᵻtˈɜːnɪŋ, sˈɛd tə lˈiː, wɪð ɹˈæθ stˈɪl bˈɜːnɪŋ, "wɪl juː nˈaʊ stɹˈaɪk ɐ blˈoʊ æt ðə fˈoʊ?"