Black is the colour of my true loves hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And 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 would soon come When she and I can be as one
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep For satisfied I never sleep I write her letters just a few short lines And I suffer death ten thousand times
Black is the colour of my true loves hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon he stands I love the ground whereon she stands I love I love I love the ground whereon she stands