text_original: Sprang the old lion, still Live with prodigious will, To his stone casement sill; Foolish and true one! Snatched up the blade he bore, Rough with its rust of yore, Kissed it, a saint no more   Only a Chouan!
text_transcription: SPRANG THE OLD LION STILL LIFE WITH PRODIGIOUS WILL TO HIS STONE CASEMENT SILL FOOLISH AND TRUE ONE SNATCHED UP THE BLADE HE BORE ROUGH WITH ITS RUST OF YORE KISSED IT A SAINT NO MORE ONLY A SCHWAN
phonemes: spɹˈæŋ ðɪ ˈoʊld lˈaɪən, stˈɪl lˈɪv wɪð pɹədˈɪdʒəs wˈɪl, tə hɪz stˈoʊn kˈeɪsmənt sˈɪl; fˈuːlɪʃ ænd tɹˈuː wˌʌn! snˈætʃt ˌʌp ðə blˈeɪd hiː bˈɔːɹ, ɹˈʌf wɪð ɪts ɹˈʌst ʌv jˈɔːɹ, kˈɪst ɪt, ɐ sˈeɪnt nˈoʊmˌɔːɹ ˈoʊnli ɐ tʃwˈɑːn!