Lost its old peace and its harmonious Gloom. 280
Whist was no more, or, if again they play’d
Their want of Skill th’ingrossing thoughts betray’d.
While this was passing, a Report was spread—
But those who rais’d were secret as the dead—
That, as the contest caus’d such dire Debate,
To no small scandall of the learned State,
Unlike to end; for losers by their heat
Would keep Resentment to console Defeat—
Then was it best to set them both aside