text_original: Forward, the Fair Brigade ! Was there a girl dismayed ? E'en though the chaperons knew Some one had blundered. Theirs not to make complaint. Theirs not to sink or faint, Theirs— but words  cannot paint Half  the discomfiture Of the Four Hundred.
text_transcription: FORWARD THE FAIR BRIGADE WAS THERE A GIRL DISMAYED EVEN THOUGH THE CHAPERONS KNEW SOMEONE HAD BLUNDERED THEIRS NOT TO MAKE COMPLAINT THEIRS NOT TO SINK OR FAINT THEIRS BUT WORDS CANNOT PAINT HALF THE DISCOMFITURE OF THE FOUR HUNDRED
phonemes: fˈɔːɹwɚd, ðə fˈɛɹ bɹɪɡˈeɪd ! wʌz ðɛɹ ɐ ɡˈɜːl dɪsmˈeɪd ? ˈɛən ðˌoʊ ðə ʃˈæpɚɹˌoʊnz nˈuː sˈʌmwʌn hæd blˈʌndɚd. ðˈɛɹz nˌɑːt tə mˌeɪk kəmplˈeɪnt. ðˈɛɹz nˌɑːt tə sˈɪŋk ɔːɹ fˈeɪnt, ðˈɛɹz— bˌʌt wˈɜːdz kænˈɑːt pˈeɪnt hˈæf ðə dɪskˈʌmfɪtʃɚɹ ʌvðə fˈɔːɹ hˈʌndɹɪd.