Black is the Colour

Black is the color
of my true love's hair
her lips are like
some roses fair
she's the sweetest smile
and the gentlest hands
and I love the ground
where on she stands

I love my love
and well she knows
I love the ground
where on she goes
I wish the day
It soon would come
When she and I
Could be as one

I go to the Clyde
I mourne and weep
For satisfied I ne'er can be
I write her a letter
just a few short lines
and suffer death
a thousand times
Black is the color
of my true love's hair
her lips are like
some roses fair
she's the sweetest smile
and the gentlest hands
I love the ground
where on she stands

I love the ground
where on she stands