Black Is The Colour

Black is the colour of my true loves hair
His lips are like some roses fair
Has the sweetest face and the neatest hands
I love the ground where on he stands

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground where on he goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When he and i could be as one

I go to the clyde for to mourn and weep
For satisfied i neer can be
I write him a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death a thousand times

I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground where on he goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When he and i could be as one