Formerly in the Irish Packet
Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are red like some roses fair
The purest eyes and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I go to Clyde for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write to you in a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times
I love my love and well she knows
I love the grass whereon she goes
If she on earth no more I see
My life will quickly fade away from me
Optional:
(A winter's past and the leaves are green
The time has past that we have seen
But still I pray the time will come
When she and I will be as one)
Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
The purest eyes and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
Optional Ending:
Black is the color of my true love’s hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
The purest hands and the gentlest eyes
I love the ground wherein she lies