Old Dog Tray

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.
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.


stationery by Chicadee