Black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I love my love, and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
I wish the day soon would come
When he and I will be as one

And black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands

I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep
But satisfied I never shall be
I'll write him a letter with a few short lines
and suffer death a thousand times

For black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
he has the sweetest smile the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon he stands
I love the ground whereon he stands