Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
I go to the Clyde and I mourn and weep
For satisfied, I ne'er can be

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like somе roses fair
She has the sweetеst smile and the gentlest hands
And I love the ground whereon she stands

And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands
And I love the ground whereon she stands