Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like a rose so fair She's got the sweetest face 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. And how I wish the day would come When she and I can be as one
I'll go to the Clyde and mourn and weep Satisfied I never sleep I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death ten thousand times