Derby, dear, 'tis in vain they try
To chill your heart, or to lure your eye.
Ah! dear, we stick, now as then,
The tenderest wife to the best of men.
Always the same, Derby my own.
Always the same to your old Wife Joan!
Derby, dear, but I did feel riled
When the Party on Primrose smiled
Until men whispered, the young Scotch lord,
Has he greatly scored?