Black is the colour

But Black is the colour of my true love's hair His face is like some rosy fair The prettiest face and the neatest hands I love the ground whereon he stands I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes If you no more on earth I see I can't serve you as you have me The winter's passed and the leaves are green The time is passed that we have seen But still I hope the time will come When you and I shall be as one I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep But satisfied I never could sleep I'll write to you a few short lines I'll suffer death one thousand times So fare you well, my own true love The time has passed, but I wish you well But still I hope the time will come When you and I will be as one I love my love and well he knows I love the ground whereon he goes The prettiest face, the neatest hands I love the ground whereon he stands