text_original: But when an hour we'd fought them, And they began to yield, Along our lines the cry ran, "The next blow wins the field!"
text_transcription: BUT WHEN AN HOUR WE FOUGHT THEM AND THEY BEGAN TO YIELD ALONG OUR LINES THE CRY RAN THE NEXT BLOW WINDS THE FIELD
phonemes: bˌʌt wɛn ɐn ˈaʊɚ wiːd fˈɔːt ðˌɛm, ænd ðeɪ bɪɡˈæn tə jˈiːld, ɐlˈɔŋ ˌaʊɚ lˈaɪnz ðə kɹˈaɪ ɹˈæn, "ðə nˈɛkst blˈoʊ wˈɪnz ðə fˈiːld!"