text_original: Not in those mighty battle days of old Did scenes like this upon his sight unfold. But now it passes. Drums and bugles cease To dash war billows on the shores of Peace. The victors smile on fair broad bosomed Sleep While in her soothing arms, the vanquished cease to weep.
text_transcription: NOT IN THOSE MIGHTY BATTLE DAYS OF OLD DID SCENES LIKE THIS UPON HIS SIDE UNFOLD BUT NOW IT PASSES DRUMS AND BUGLES CEASE TO DASH WAR BILLOWS ON THE SHORES OF PEACE THE VICTORS SMILE ON FAIR BROAD BOSOMED SLEEP WHILE IN HER SOOTHING ARMS THE VANQUISHED CEASE TO WEEP
phonemes: nˌɑːt ɪn ðoʊz mˈaɪɾi bˈæɾəl dˈeɪz ʌv ˈoʊld dˈɪd sˈiːnz lˈaɪk ðɪs əpˌɑːn hɪz sˈaɪt ʌnfˈoʊld. bˌʌt nˈaʊ ɪt pˈæsᵻz. dɹˈʌmz ænd bjˈuːɡəlz sˈiːs tə dˈæʃ wˈɔːɹ bˈɪloʊz ɔnðə ʃˈɔːɹz ʌv pˈiːs. ðə vˈɪktɚz smˈaɪl ˌɔn fˈɛɹ bɹˈɔːd bˈʊzəmd slˈiːp wˌaɪl ɪn hɜː sˈuːðɪŋ ˈɑːɹmz, ðə vˈæŋkwɪʃt sˈiːs tə wˈiːp.