text_original: There was grummer of drums humming hoarse in the hills, And the bugles sang fanfaron down by the mills, By Flatbush the bagpipes were droning amain, And keen cracked the rifles in Martense's lane; For the Hessians were flecking the hedges with red, And the Grenadiers' tramp marked the roll of the dead.
text_transcription: THERE WAS GRUMMAR OF DRUMS HUMMING HOARSE IN THE HILLS AND THE BUGLES SANG FANFARON DOWN BY THE MILLS BY FLAT BUSH THE BAGPIPES WERE DRONING AMAIN AND KEENE CRACKED THE RIFLES IN MARTENZA'S LANE FOR THE HESSIANS WERE FLECKING THE HEDGES WITH RED AND THE GRENADIER'S TRAMP MARKED THE ROLL OF THE DEAD
phonemes: ðɛɹwˌʌz ɡɹˈʌmɚɹ ʌv dɹˈʌmz hˈʌmɪŋ hˈɔːɹs ɪnðə hˈɪlz, ænd ðə bjˈuːɡəlz sˈæŋ fˈænfæɹən dˌaʊn baɪ ðə mˈɪlz, baɪ flˈætbʊʃ ðə bˈæɡpaɪps wɜː dɹˈoʊnɪŋ ˈæmeɪn, ænd kˈiːn kɹˈækt ðə ɹˈaɪfəlz ɪn mˈɑːɹtɛnsᵻz lˈeɪn; fɚðə hˈɛʃənz wɜː flˈɛkɪŋ ðə hˈɛdʒᵻz wɪð ɹˈɛd, ænd ðə ɡɹˈɛneɪdˌɪɹz tɹˈæmp mˈɑːɹkt ðə ɹˈoʊl ʌvðə dˈɛd.