Black is the colour
Black is the color of my true love's hair
His face is like some rosy fair
The prettiest face
and the neatest hands
I love the ground on where he stands
I love my love
and well he knows
I love the ground on whereon he goes
If you no more on earth I see,
I can't serve you as you have me
The winters passed and the leaves are green
the time is passed that we have seen
But still I hope the day will come
when you and I will be as one
I go to the Clyde for the mourn and weep,
but satisfied I never could sleep
I write you a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousnad times.
So fare thee well my ain true love
The time has passed but I wish you well
But still I hope the day will come
When you and I wil be as one.
Black is the color of my true love's hair