Black is the color 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 color 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 color 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