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.