text_original: Grim dashed they away as they bounded, The hunters to hem in the prey, And, with Deckard's long rifles surrounded, Then the British rose fast to the fray; And never with arms of more vigor Did their bayonets press through the strife. Where, with every swift pull of the trigger, The sharpshooters dashed out a life!
text_transcription: GRIM DASHED THEY AWAY AS THEY BOUNDED THE HUNTERS TO HEM IN THE PREY AND WITH DECARD'S LONG RIFLES SURROUNDED THEN THE BRITISH ROSE FAST TO THE FRAY AND NEVER WITH ARMS OF MORE VIGOUR DID THEIR BAYONETS PRESS THROUGH THE STRIFE WHERE WITH EVERY SWIFT PULL OF THE TRIGGER THE SHARPSHOOTERS DASHED OUT A LIFE
phonemes: ɡɹˈɪm dˈæʃt ðeɪ ɐwˈeɪ æz ðeɪ bˈaʊndᵻd, ðə hˈʌntɚz tə hˈɛm ɪnðə pɹˈeɪ, ænd, wɪð dˈɛkɚdz lˈɔŋ ɹˈaɪfəlz sɚɹˈaʊndᵻd, ðˈɛn ðə bɹˈɪɾɪʃ ɹˈoʊz fˈæst tə ðə fɹˈeɪ; ænd nˈɛvɚ wɪð ˈɑːɹmz ʌv mˈɔːɹ vˈɪɡɚ dˈɪd ðɛɹ bˈeɪənˌɛts pɹˈɛs θɹuː ðə stɹˈaɪf. wˈɛɹ, wɪð ˈɛvɹi swˈɪft pˈʊl ʌvðə tɹˈɪɡɚ, ðə ʃˈɑːɹpʃuːɾɚz dˈæʃt ˈaʊt ɐ lˈaɪf!