Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon she stands I love my love, well she knows I love the ground whereon she goes I wish the day it soon would come When she and I could be as one Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands And I love the ground whereon she stands Go to the Clyde and mourn and weep For satisfied I never can be I write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death a thousand times Black is the color of my true love's hair Her lips are like some roses fair She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands I love the ground whereon she stands