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OLD DOG TRAY |
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2 The forms I called my own Have vanished one by one, The loved 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. |
3 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. |
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OLD MEMORIES |
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