Black Is The Color Of My True Love's Hair

Black is the color of my true love's hair

His face is like roses so fair

He's the prettiest face

And the neatest of hands

I love the ground on where he stands



Oh I love my love

And this 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 time will come

When you and I will be as one



I go to the Clyde to mourn and weep,

But satisfied I never could sleep

I write you a letter

Just a few short lines

I'll suffer death ten thousand times.



So fare you well my ain't true love

The time has passed but I wish you well

But still I hope the time will come

When you and I will be as one.



I love my love and this she knows

I love the ground whereon he goes

He's the prettiest face and the neatest of hands,

I love the ground were on he stands.