text_original: With gloomy brows they sat at the board, For small the hope could be, When the fair haired lad with his wooden sword, Strode up to his father's knee.
text_transcription: WITH GLOOMY BROWS THEY SAT AT THE BOARD FOR SMALL THE HOPE COULD BE WHEN THE FAIR HAIRED LAD WITH HIS WOODEN SWORD STRODE UP TO HIS FATHER'S KNEE
phonemes: wɪð ɡlˈuːmi bɹˈaʊz ðeɪ sˈæt æt ðə bˈɔːɹd, fɔːɹ smˈɔːl ðə hˈoʊp kʊd bˈiː, wˌɛn ðə fˈɛɹ hˈɛɹd lˈæd wɪð hɪz wˈʊdən sˈɔːɹd, stɹˈoʊd ˌʌp tə hɪz fˈɑːðɚz nˈiː.