Black Is the Color

But black is the color of my true love's hair
 His face is something wondrous fair
 The prettiest eyes 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 on earth no more I see
 I can't serve you as you have me
 The winter's past 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 will be as one
 I go to the clyde for to mourn to weep
 But satisfied would I never can sleep
 I'll write to you in a few little lines
 I'll suffer death ten thousand times
 But black is the color of my true love's hair
 His face is something wondrous fair
 The prettiest eyes and the neatest hands
 I love the ground whereon he stands