Teach me to sound on quiv’ring lyre,
Prosodial strains in notes of fire;
Words’ ends shall be my theme sublime,
Now first descanted on in rhyme.
Come, little boys, attention lend,
All words are long in a that end:
(In proof of which I’ll bet a quart,)
Excepting those which must be short—
As pută, ită, posteă, quiă,
Ejă, and every case in iă;