Black
is
the
colour
of
my
true
love
'
s
fair
Her
lips
are
like
some
roses
fair
And
the
sweetest
smile
The
gentlest
hands
I
love
the
ground
whereon
she
stands
I
love
my
love
,
and
well
she
knows
I
love
the
ground
whereon
she
goes
I
wish
the
day
soon
would
come
When
she
and
I
will
be
as
one
I
go
to
the
Clyde
and
mourn
and
weep
But
satisfied
I
never
shall
be
I
'
ll
write
her
a
letter
just
a
few
short
lines
And
suffer
death
a
thousand
times
Black
is
the
colour
of
my
true
love
'
s
fair
Her
lips
are
like
some
roses
fair
And
the
sweetest
smile
The
gentlest
hands
I
love
the
ground
whereon
she
stands
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