THE morn of life is past, <br />And ev'ning comes at last; <br />It brings me a dream of a once happy day, <br />Of merry forms I've seen <br />Upon the village green, <br />Sporting with my old dog Tray. <br />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. <br /> <br />The forms I called my own <br />Have vanish'd one by one, <br />The lov'd ones, the dear ones have all pass'd away; <br />Their happy smiles have flown, <br />Their gentle voices gone, <br />I've nothing left but old dog Tray. <br />Chorus. <br /> <br />When thoughts recall the past, <br />His eyes are on me cast, <br />I know that he feels what my breaking heart would say; <br />Although he cannot speak, <br />I'll vainly, vainly seek <br />A better friend than old dog Tray. <br />Chorus.<br /><br />Stephen C. Foster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/old-dog-tray/
