Black is the color

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