Black is the colour of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
I wish the day, it soon would come
When he and I could soon be one

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I go to Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied I ne'er can be
I write him a letter just to feel short lies
And suffer death a thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands