text_original: Then naked in those flames they're cast, Too dreadful 'tis to tell, Where they must fry, and burn and die, While cursed Indians yell. Nor son, nor sire, these tigers spare,   The youth, and hoary head, Were by those monsters murdered there, And numbered with the dead.
text_transcription: THEN NAKED IN THOSE FLAMES THEY'RE CAST TOO DREADFUL TIS TO TELL WHERE THEY MUST FRY AND BURN AND DIE WHILE CURSED INDIANS YELL NOR SON NOR SIRE THESE TIGERS SPARE THE YOUTH AND HOARY HEAD WHEREBY THOSE MONSTERS MURDERED THERE AND NUMBERED WITH THE DEAD
phonemes: ðˈɛn nˈeɪkᵻd ɪn ðoʊz flˈeɪmz ðeɪɚ kˈæst, tˈuː dɹˈɛdfəl tˈɪz tə tˈɛl, wˌɛɹ ðeɪ mˈʌst fɹˈaɪ, ænd bˈɜːn ænd dˈaɪ, wˌaɪl kˈɜːst ˈɪndiənz jˈɛl. nˈɔːɹ sˈʌn, nˈɔːɹ sˈaɪɚ, ðiːz tˈaɪɡɚz spˈɛɹ,   ðə jˈuːθ, ænd hˈɔːɹi hˈɛd, wɜː baɪ ðoʊz mˈɔnstɚz mˈɜːdɚd ðˈɛɹ, ænd nˈʌmbɚd wɪððə dˈɛd.