Black is the colour of my true love's hair. Her lips are like a rose so fair. She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hands. I love the ground where on she stands. I love my love and well she knows. I love the ground where on she goes. And how I wish the day would come When she and I can be as one. Black is the colour of my true love's hair. Her lips are like a rose so fair. She's got the sweetest face and the gentlest hands. I love the ground where on she stands. I go to the Clyde and mourn and weep Satisfied I never will sleep. I 'll write her a letter, just a few short lines And suffer death ten thousand times.