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Black is the colour of my true love's hair Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like some rosy fair The purest eyes and the neatest hands I love the ground whereon she stands
I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep But satisfied I never can sleep I'll write to you in a few short lines I'll suffer death ten thousand times
I know my love and well she knows I love the grass whereon she goes If she on earth no more I see My life will quickly fade away
A winter's past and the leaves are green The time has past that we have seen But still I hope the time will come When you and I will be as one
Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like some rosy fair The purest eyes and the neatest hands I love the ground whereon she stands
