This seems to be the original printing of the poem. I have boldfaced the words that are different from the version I posted earlier. Apart from that, and adding verse numbers, I have attempted to reproduce the original typography.

From The Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. 5 (London: Printed by Edward Cave, March, 1735), page 153:

The Joys of Love never forgot. A SONG.

[1]
DEAR Chloe, while thus beyond measure,
    You treat me with doubts and disdain,
You rob all your youth of its pleasure,
    And hoard up an old age of pain.
Your maxim, that love's only founded
    On charms that will quickly decay,
You'll find to be very ill grounded,
    When once you its dictates obey.

[2]
The passion from beauty first drawn,
    Your kindness would vastly improve;
Your sight and your smiles are the dawn,
    Possession's the sun-shine of love:
And tho' the bright beams of your eyes
    Shou'd be clouded, that now are so gay,
And darkness possess all the skies,
    Yet we ne'er shall forget it was day.

[3]
Old DARBY, with JOAN by his side,
    You've often regarded with wonder;
He's dropsical, she is sore-ey'd,
    Yet they're ever uneasy asunder.
Together they totter about,
    Or sit in the sun at the door;
And at night, when old Darby's pot's out,
    His Joan will not smoke a whiff more.

[4]
No beauty nor wit they possess,
    Their several failings to smother;
Then what are the charms, can you guess,
    That make them so fond of each other?
'Tis the pleasing remembrance of youth,
    The endearments which youth did bestow;
The thoughts of past pleasure and truth,
    The best of our blessings below.

[5]
Those traces for ever will last,
    Where sickness or time can't remove;
For when youth and beauty are past,
    And age brings the winter of love;
A friendship insensibly grows,
    By reviews of such raptures as these;
The current of fondness still flows,
    Which decrepit old age cannot freeze.