text_original: The night watch guards his weary post, From thoughts of danger free, He marks some vessel's dusky form, And hears, amid the howling storm, The minute gun at sea. 404 POEMS OF NATURE. Swift on the shore a hardy few The life boat man with a gallant crew And dare the dangerous wave; Through the wild surf they cleave their way, Lost in the foam, nor know dismay, For they go the crew to save.
text_transcription: THE NIGHT WATCH GUARDS HIS WEARY POST FROM THOUGHTS OF DANGER FREE HE MARKS SOME VESSEL'S DUSKY FORM AND HEARS AMID THE HOWLING STORM THE MINUTE GUN AT SEA SWIFT ON THE SHORE A HARDY FEW THE LIFE BOAT MAN WITH THE GALLANT CREW AND THERE THE DANGERS WAVE THROUGH THE WILD SURF THEY CLEAVE THEIR WAY LOST IN THE FOAM NOR NO DISMAY FOR THEY GO THE CREW TO SAVE
phonemes: ðə nˈaɪt wˈɑːtʃ ɡˈɑːɹdz hɪz wˈɪɹi pˈoʊst, fɹʌm θˈɔːts ʌv dˈeɪndʒɚ fɹˈiː, hiː mˈɑːɹks sˌʌm vˈɛsəlz dˈʌski fˈɔːɹm, ænd hˈɪɹz, ɐmˈɪd ðə hˈaʊlɪŋ stˈɔːɹm, ðə mˈɪnɪt ɡˈʌn æt sˈiː. fˈɔːɹhˈʌndɹɪd fˈɔːɹ pˈoʊᵻmz ʌv nˈeɪtʃɚ. swˈɪft ɔnðə ʃˈɔːɹ ɐ hˈɑːɹdi fjˈuː ðə lˈaɪf bˈoʊt mˈæn wɪð ɐ ɡˈælənt kɹˈuː ænd dˈɛɹ ðə dˈeɪndʒɚɹəs wˈeɪv; θɹuː ðə wˈaɪld sˈɜːf ðeɪ klˈiːv ðɛɹ wˈeɪ, lˈɔst ɪnðə fˈoʊm, nˈɔːɹ nˈoʊ dɪsmˈeɪ, fɔːɹ ðeɪ ɡˌoʊ ðə kɹˈuː tə sˈeɪv.