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