Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so fair,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
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 will come
When she and I shall be as one.

Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so fair,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
I love the ground whereon she stands.

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

Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like rose so faïr,
She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hugs,
I love the ground whereon she stands.

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