Black is the colour of my true love ' s fair

Her lips are like some roses fair

And 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 the day soon would come

When she and I will be as one

I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep

But satisfied I never shall be

I ' ll write her a letter just a few short lines

And suffer death a thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love ' s fair

Her lips are like some roses fair

And the sweetest smile

The gentlest hands

I love the ground whereon she stands

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