black is the colour of my true love's hair

black is the colour of my true love's hair
her lips are like a rose so fair
she has the sweetest smile and the softest hands
and i love the ground whereon she stands

i love my love and well she knows
i love the ground whereon she goes
and still i hope that the day will come
when she and i can be as one

i go to the clyde wherei mourn and weep
for satisfied i never sleep
i write her letters 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 a rose so fair
she has the sweetest smile and the softest hands
and i love the ground whereon she stands