text_original: But like the leaves in some autumnal gale The red men fall in Washita's wild vale. Each painted face and black befeathered head Still more repulsive seems with death's grim pallor wed.
text_transcription: BUT LIKE THE LEAVES IN SOME AUTUMNAL GALE THE RED MEN FALL IN WASHITA'S WILD VEIL EACH PAINTED FACE AND BLACK BEFEATHERED HEAD STILL MORE REPULSIVE SEEMS WITH DEATH'S GRIM PALLOR WED
phonemes: bˌʌt lˈaɪk ðə lˈiːvz ɪn sˌʌm ˈɔːɾʌmnəl ɡˈeɪl ðə ɹˈɛd mˈɛn fˈɔːl ɪn wɑːʃˈiːɾəz wˈaɪld vˈeɪl. ˈiːtʃ pˈeɪntᵻd fˈeɪs ænd blˈæk bᵻfˈɛðɚd hˈɛd stˈɪl mˈɔːɹ ɹᵻpˈʌlsɪv sˈiːmz wɪð dˈɛθz ɡɹˈɪm pˈælɚ wˈɛd.