text_original: "Is the White God enraged? Let him take up his sword, I will fall if it thus is designed; But he sits in the skies, and the thoughts he sends down which forever are clouding my mind." When the conflict came on, then his spirit arose like an eagle refreshed for its flight; And his brow it was clear, and his voice it rang high,   like the thunderer first in the fight.
text_transcription: IS THE WHITE GOD ENRAGED LET HIM TAKE UP HIS SWORD I WILL FALL IF IT DOES HIS DESIGNED BUT HE SITS IN THE SKIES AND THE THOUGHTS HE SENDS DOWN WHICH FOR EVER ARE CLOUDING MY MIND WHEN THE CONFLICT CAME ON THEN HIS SPIRIT AROSE LIKE AN EAGLE REFRESHED FOR ITS FLIGHT AND HIS BROW IT WAS CLEAR AND HIS VOICE IT RANG HIGH LIKE THE THUNDER FIRST IN THE FIGHT
phonemes: "ɪz ðə wˈaɪt ɡˈɑːd ɛnɹˈeɪdʒd? lˈɛt hˌɪm tˈeɪk ˌʌp hɪz sˈɔːɹd, aɪ wɪl fˈɔːl ɪf ɪt ðˈʌs ɪz dɪzˈaɪnd; bˌʌt hiː sˈɪts ɪnðə skˈaɪz, ænd ðə θˈɔːts hiː sˈɛndz dˌaʊn wˌɪtʃ fɚɹˈɛvɚɹ ɑːɹ klˈaʊdɪŋ maɪ mˈaɪnd." wˌɛn ðə kˈɑːnflɪkt kˈeɪm ˈɔn, ðˈɛn hɪz spˈɪɹɪt ɚɹˈoʊz lˈaɪk ɐn ˈiːɡəl ɹᵻfɹˈɛʃt fɔːɹ ɪts flˈaɪt; ænd hɪz bɹˈaʊ ɪt wʌz klˈɪɹ, ænd hɪz vˈɔɪs ɪt ɹˈæŋ hˈaɪ,   lˈaɪk ðə θˈʌndɚɹɚ fˈɜːst ɪnðə fˈaɪt.