Black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands

I love the ground wheron she stands



I love my love and well she knows

I love the ground whereon she goes

But some times I whish the day will come

That she and I will be as one



Black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands

I love the ground wheron she stands



I walk to the Clyde for to mourn and weep

But satisfied I never can sleep

I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines

And suffer death ten thousand times



Black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands

I love the ground wheron she stands