text_original: We left the dell, we scaled the fell, And up the crest we sprang, When swift and sharp along the scarp A deadly volley rang; And down went Leitch of Weedon's corps! Deep hurt, but gallant still; And down went Knowlton!  he that bore The sword of Bunker Hill. I raised his head.
text_transcription: WE LEFT THE DELL WE SCALED THE FELL AND UP THE CREST WE SPRANG WHEN SWIFT AND SHARP ALONG THE SCARP A DEADLY VOLLEY RANG AND DOWN WENT LEECH OF WEEDEN'S CORE DEEP HURT BUT GALLANT STILL AND DOWN WENT NOLTON HE THAT BORED THE SWORD OF BUNKER HILL I RAISED HIS HEAD
phonemes: wiː lˈɛft ðə dˈɛl, wiː skˈeɪld ðə fˈɛl, ænd ˌʌp ðə kɹˈɛst wiː spɹˈæŋ, wˌɛn swˈɪft ænd ʃˈɑːɹp ɐlˈɔŋ ðə skˈɑːɹp ɐ dˈɛdli vˈɑːli ɹˈæŋ; ænd dˌaʊn wɛnt lˈeɪtʃ ʌv wˈiːdɑːnz kˈɔːɹ! dˈiːp hˈɜːt, bˌʌt ɡˈælənt stˈɪl; ænd dˌaʊn wɛnt nˈoʊltən!  hiː ðæt bˈɔːɹ ðə sˈɔːɹd ʌv bˈʌŋkɚ hˈɪl. aɪ ɹˈeɪzd hɪz hˈɛd.