{Black Is The Colour} Black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips is like some a rose so fair The sweetest smile, 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 that day soon come When she and I will be as one I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep But satisfied I never should be I'll write a letter just a few short lines I'll suffer d**h ten thousand times Black is the colour of my true love's hair Her lips is like some rosy fair And the sweetest smile, the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon she stands