Black is the color of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She has the sweetest smile 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 the day soon would come

When she and I will be as one



And black is the color of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She has the sweetest smile the gentlest hands

And I love the ground whereon she stands



I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep

But satisfied I never shall be

I'll write her a letter with a few short lines

and suffer death a thousand times



And black is the color of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some roses fair

She has the sweetest smile the gentlest hands

And I love the ground whereon she stands

I love the ground whereon she stands

I love the ground whereon she stands