Black Is the Colour

Black is the color of my true love's hair
His face is like roses so fair
He's the prettiest face
And the neatest of hands
I love the ground on where he stands

Oh I love my love
And this he knows
I love the ground on whereon he goes
If you no more on earth I see,
I can't serve you as you have me

The winters passed and the leaves are green
The time is passed that we have seen
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one

I go to the Clyde to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I never could sleep
I write you a letter
Just a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times.

So fare you well my ain't true love
The time has passed but I wish you well
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.

I love my love and this she knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
He's the prettiest face and the neatest of hands,
I love the ground where on he stands.