Old Dog Tray

THE morn of life is past,

And ev'ning 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 called my own

Have vanish'd one by one,

   The lov'd 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.

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.

Stephen Foster

Index to poems in the collection by Stephen Foster