Black Is the Colour

Black is the colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
I wish they day it soon would come
When he and I could soon be one

Black ist the colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I got the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I ne'er can be
I write him a letter just a few short lines
And suffer then a thousand times

Black is the colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands