Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair.

His lips are something wond'rous fair

The purest eyes and the bravest hands.

I love the grass whereon he stands.

I love my love and well he knows,

I love the ground whereon he goes

And if my love no more I see

my life would quickly fade away.

Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair.