black is the colour
(Trad. Arr. S. Brett/M. Brennan) Celtic Songs

Black is the colour
Of my true love's hair
His lips are like some roses fair
He has the sweetest smile
And such gentle hands
Oh I love the ground
On which he stands
chorus
I love my love and well he knows
I love the ground on which he goes
I wish the day it soon would come
When he and I would be as one
I go to the Clyde
And I mourn and weep
For satisfied I can never be
I write him a letter
Just a few short lines
And I suffer death
Oh a thousand times