Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
His face so soft and wondrous fair,
The purest eyes and the strongest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.
Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
I love my love and well she knows,
I love the ground where on she goes,
I'll write a note with a few little lines,
I'd suffer death ten thousand times!
Black is the colour of my true love's hair.
I'll go to the Clyde, where I'll mourn and weep,
For satisfied I ne'er can sleep,
If he on earth no more would stay,
My life would quickly fade away.
Black is the colour of my true love's hair.