Black is the colour of my true love4s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I could be as one
Black is the colour of my true love4s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I ne4er can be
I write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer d**h a thousand times