My Poor Dog Tray

My Poor Dog Tray
2393

On the green banks of Shannon, when Shelah was nigh
No bilthe Irish lad was so happy as I:
No harp like my own could so cheerily play
And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray

When at last I was forced from as Shelah to part
She said while the sorrow was big In her heart
O remember your Shelah when far, far away
And be kind, my dear Pat, to my poor dog Tray

Poor dog, he was faithful and kind to be sure
And he constantly loved me, although I was poor
When the sour locking folks sent me, heartless, away
I had always a friend in my poor dog Tray

When the road was so dark and the night was so cold
And Put and his dog were grown weary and old
How snugly we slept in my old coat of gray,
And he licked me for kindness my for dog Tray

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