Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair His face is something wondrous fair The clearest eyes and the strongest hands I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes And if he on earth no more I see My life would quickly wean, wean I go to the Clyde to mourn, to weep For satisfied I ne'er can sleep I'll write you a letter in a few short lines I suffer death ten thousand times Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair His face is something wondrous fair The clearest eyes and the strongest hands I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes Black, black, black is the colour of my true love's hair