text_original: Gone, like Indians, under brush and to some mystic place   Home of red men, long since gone, to join their dying race. Yes ... we've chummed it, onward  outward ... mountain, wood, and Key, At the quiet readin' table ... Sportsman Grey an' Me.
text_transcription: GONE LIKE INDIANS UNDER BRUSH AND TO SOME MYSTIC PLACE HOME OF RED MEN LONG SINCE GONE TO JOIN THAT DYING RACE YES WE'VE CHUMMED IT ONWARD OUTWARD MOUNTAIN WOOD AND QUAY AT THE QUIET READING TABLE SPORTSMAN GRAY AND ME
phonemes: ɡˈɔn, lˈaɪk ˈɪndiənz, ˌʌndɚ bɹˈʌʃ ænd tə sˌʌm mˈɪstɪk plˈeɪs hˈoʊm ʌv ɹˈɛd mˈɛn, lˈɔŋ sˈɪns ɡˈɔn, tə dʒˈɔɪn ðɛɹ dˈaɪɪŋ ɹˈeɪs. jˈɛs ... wiːv tʃˈʌmd ɪt, ˈɑːnwɚd ˈaʊtwɚd ... mˈaʊntɪn, wˈʊd, ænd kˈiː, æt ðə kwˈaɪət ɹˈiːdɪn tˈeɪbəl ... spˈɔːɹtsmən ɡɹˈeɪ æn mˌiː.