Old Dog Tray |
Stephen Foster, 1853
The morn of life is past, and evening comes at last, It brings me a dream of a once happy day, Of merry forms I've seen upon the village green A-sporting with my old dog Tray. Chorus: Old dog Tray's ever faithful, Grief cannot drive him away. He's gentle, he is kind, I'll never, never find A better friend than old dog Tray. | 2. The forms I call'd my own have vanished one by one, The loved ones, the dear ones have all pass'd away; Their happy smiles have flown, their gentle voices gone; I've nothing left but old dog Tray. Chorus:
3. When thoughts recall the past, his eyes are on me cast, |