text_original: Oh, for the power to call to aid, of mine Own humble Muse, the famed and sacred nine. Then might she fitly sing, and only then, Of those intrepid and unflinching men Who knew no homes save ever moving tents, And who 'twixt fierce unfriendly elements And wild barbarians warred.
text_transcription: OH FOR THE POWER TO CALL TO AID OF MINE OWN HUMBLE MUSE THE FAMED AND SACRED NINE THEN MIGHT SHE FITLY SING AND ONLY THEN OF THOSE INTREPID AND UNFLINCHING MEN WHO KNEW NO HOMES SAVE EVER MOVING TENTS AND TO TWIXT FIERCE UNFRIENDLY ELEMENTS AND WILD BARBARIANS WARD
phonemes: ˈoʊ, fɚðə pˈaʊɚ tə kˈɔːl tʊ ˈeɪd, ʌv mˈaɪn ˈoʊn hˈʌmbəl mjˈuːz, ðə fˈeɪmd ænd sˈeɪkɹɪd nˈaɪn. ðˈɛn mˌaɪt ʃiː fˈɪtli sˈɪŋ, ænd ˈoʊnli ðˈɛn, ʌv ðoʊz ɪntɹˈɛpɪd ænd ʌnflˈɪntʃɪŋ mˈɛn hˌuː nˈuː nˈoʊ hˈoʊmz sˈeɪv ˈɛvɚ mˈuːvɪŋ tˈɛnts, ænd hˌuː twˈɪkst fˈɪɹs ʌnfɹˈɛndli ˈɛlɪmənts ænd wˈaɪld bɑːɹbˈɛɹiənz wˈɔːɹd.