text_original: I come from haunts of coot and hern I make a sudden sally And sparkle out among the fern, To bicker down a valley. INLAND WATERS: HIGHLANDS. 195 By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges, By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges.
text_transcription: I COME FROM HAUNTS OF COURT AND HERNE I MAKE A SUDDEN SALLY AND SPARKLE OUT AMONG THE FERN TO BICKER DOWN A VALLEY BY THIRTY HILLS I HURRY DOWN OR SLIP BETWEEN THE RIDGES BY TWENTY THORPES A LITTLE TOWN AND HALF A HUNDRED BRIDGES
phonemes: aɪ kˈʌm fɹʌm hˈɔːnts ʌv kˈuːt ænd hˈɜːn aɪ mˌeɪk ɐ sˈʌdən sˈæli ænd spˈɑːɹkəl ˈaʊt ɐmˌʌŋ ðə fˈɜːn, tə bˈɪkɚ dˌaʊn ɐ vˈæli. ˈɪnlənd wˈɔːɾɚz: hˈaɪləndz. wˈʌnhˈʌndɹɪd nˈaɪnti fˈaɪv baɪ θˈɜːɾi hˈɪlz aɪ hˈɜːɹi dˈaʊn, ɔːɹ slˈɪp bᵻtwˌiːn ðə ɹˈɪdʒᵻz, baɪ twˈɛnti θˈɔːɹps, ɐ lˈɪɾəl tˈaʊn, ænd hˈæf ɐ hˈʌndɹɪd bɹˈɪdʒᵻz.