text_original: With a cry Polly Ann flew to the hickory cradle under the tree, Tom sprang for the rifle that was never far from his side, while with a kind of instinct I ran to catch the spancelled horses by the river.
text_transcription: WITH A CRY POLLY ANN FLEW TO THE HICKORY CRADLE UNDER THE TREE TOM SPRANG FOR THE RIFLE THAT WAS NEVER FAR FROM HIS SIDE WHILE WITH A KIND OF INSTINCT I RAN TO CATCH THE SPANSLED HORSES BY THE RIVER
phonemes: wɪð ɐ kɹˈaɪ pˈɑːli ˈæn flˈuː tə ðə hˈɪkɚɹi kɹˈeɪdəl ˌʌndɚ ðə tɹˈiː, tˈɑːm spɹˈæŋ fɚðə ɹˈaɪfəl ðæt wʌz nˈɛvɚ fˈɑːɹ fɹʌm hɪz sˈaɪd, wˌaɪl wɪð ɐ kˈaɪnd ʌv ˈɪnstɪŋkt aɪ ɹˈæn tə kˈætʃ ðə spˈænsəld hˈɔːɹsᵻz baɪ ðə ɹˈɪvɚ.