text_original: 'Twas hither a youth of dreamy mood, A hundred winters ago, Had wandered over the mighty wood, When the panther's track was fresh on the snow, And keen were the winds that came to stir The long dark boughs of the hemlock fir. Too gentle of mien he seemed and fair, For a child of those rugged steeps; His home lay low in the valley where The kingly Hudson rolls to the deeps; But he wore the hunter's frock that day, And a slender gun on his shoulder lay.
text_transcription: TWAS HITHER A YOUTH OF DREAMY MOOD A HUNDRED WINTERS AGO HAD WANDERED OVER THE MIGHTY WOOD WHEN THE PANTHER'S TRACK WAS FRESH ON THE SNOW AND KEEN WERE THE WINDS THAT CAME TO STIR THE LONG DARK BOUGHS OF THE HEMLOCK FIR TOO GENTLE OF MIEN HE SEEMED AND FAIR FOR A CHILD OF THOSE RUGGED STEEPS HIS HOME LAY LOW IN THE VALLEY WHERE THE KINGLY HUDSON ROSE TO THE DEEPS BUT HE WORE THE HUNTER'S FROCK THAT DAY AND THE SLENDER GUN ON HIS SHOULDER LAY
phonemes: twˈɑːz hˈɪðɚɹ ɐ jˈuːθ ʌv dɹˈiːmi mˈuːd, ɐ hˈʌndɹɪd wˈɪntɚz ɐɡˈoʊ, hæd wˈɔndɚd ˌoʊvɚ ðə mˈaɪɾi wˈʊd, wˌɛn ðə pˈænθɚz tɹˈæk wʌz fɹˈɛʃ ɔnðə snˈoʊ, ænd kˈiːn wɜː ðə wˈɪndz ðæt kˈeɪm tə stˈɜː ðə lˈɔŋ dˈɑːɹk bˈaʊz ʌvðə hˈɛmlɑːk fˈɜː. tˈuː dʒˈɛntəl ʌv mˈiːn hiː sˈiːmd ænd fˈɛɹ, fɚɹə tʃˈaɪld ʌv ðoʊz ɹˈʌɡᵻd stˈiːps; hɪz hˈoʊm lˈeɪ lˈoʊ ɪnðə vˈæli wˌɛɹ ðə kˈɪŋli hˈʌdsən ɹˈoʊlz tə ðə dˈiːps; bˌʌt hiː wˈɔːɹ ðə hˈʌntɚz fɹˈɑːk ðæt dˈeɪ, ænd ɐ slˈɛndɚ ɡˈʌn ˌɔn hɪz ʃˈoʊldɚ lˈeɪ.