text_original: No bugle echoed and no voice spoke near, Lest on some lurking Indian's list'ning ear The sound might fall. Through swift descending snow The stealthy guides crept, tracing out the foe; No fire was lighted, and no halt was made From haggard gray lipped dawn till night lent friendly shade.
text_transcription: NO BUGLE ECHOED AND NO VOICE SPOKE NEAR LEST ON SOME LURKING INDIAN'S LISTENING EAR THE SOUND MIGHT FALL THROUGH SWIFT DESCENDING SNOW THE STEALTHY GUIDES CREPT TRACING OUT THE FOE NO FIRE WAS LIGHTED AND NO HALT WAS MADE FROM HAGGARD GRAY LEAPED DAWN TILL NIGHT LEND FRIENDLY SHADE
phonemes: nˈoʊ bjˈuːɡəl ˈɛkoʊd ænd nˈoʊ vˈɔɪs spˈoʊk nˈɪɹ, lˈɛst ˌɔn sˌʌm lˈɜːkɪŋ ˈɪndiənz lˈɪstnɪŋ ˈɪɹ ðə sˈaʊnd mˌaɪt fˈɔːl. θɹuː swˈɪft dᵻsˈɛndɪŋ snˈoʊ ðə stˈɛlθi ɡˈaɪdz kɹˈɛpt, tɹˈeɪsɪŋ ˈaʊt ðə fˈoʊ; nˈoʊ fˈaɪɚ wʌz lˈaɪɾᵻd, ænd nˈoʊ hˈɔlt wʌz mˌeɪd fɹʌm hˈæɡɚd ɡɹˈeɪ lˈɪpt dˈɔːn tˈɪl nˈaɪt lˈɛnt fɹˈɛndli ʃˈeɪd.