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,
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.
The forms I call’d my own
Have vanished one by one,
The lov’d ones, the dear ones have all passed away;
Their happy smiles have flown,
Their gentle voices gone;
I’ve nothing left but old dog Tray.
Chorus:
When thoughts recall the past
His eyes are on me cast;
I know that he feels what my breaking heart would say:
Although he cannot speak
I’ll vainly, vainly seek
A better friend than old dog Tray.
Chorus: |