Black is the Colour

Black, black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some rosy fair

The prettiest face and the neatest hands

I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows

I love the ground whereon she goes

If she on Earth no more I see

My life will quickly fade away

I go downtown for to mourn and weep

But satisfied I never can sleep

I'll write to you in a few short lines

I'll suffer death ten thousand times

So fare you well my own true love

The time has passed and I wish you well

But still I hope the time will come

When you and I will be as one

Black, black is the colour of my true love's hair

Her lips are like some rosy fair

The prettiest face and the neatest hands

I love the ground whereon she stands

I love the ground whereon she stands