text_original: Then we will hunt the loamy swale And trail The snipe, their cunning wiles o'ercoming; And oft will flush the bevied quail, And hear the partridge slowly drumming Dull echoes in the leaf strewn dale.
text_transcription: THEN WE WILL HUNT THE LOAMY SWALE AND TRAIL THE SNIPE THEIR CUNNING WILES ARE COMING AND OFT WILL FLUSH THE BEVIED QUAIL AND HEAR THE PARTRIDGE SLOWLY DRUMMING DULL ECHOES IN THE LEAF STREWN DALE
phonemes: ðˈɛn wiː wɪl hˈʌnt ðə lˈoʊmi swˈɑːl ænd tɹˈeɪl ðə snˈaɪp, ðɛɹ kˈʌnɪŋ wˈaɪlz ˈɔːɹkʌmɪŋ; ænd ˈɔft wɪl flˈʌʃ ðə bˈɛvid kwˈeɪl, ænd hˈɪɹ ðə pˈɑːɹtɹɪdʒ slˈoʊli dɹˈʌmɪŋ dˈʌl ˈɛkoʊz ɪnðə lˈiːf stɹˈuːn dˈeɪl.