Black Is the Color - Jean Ritchie

Black black is the color of my true love's hair

His face is something wonder so fair

The prettiest toys and the neatest of hands

I love the ground where on he stands

I love my love oh and where we knows

I love the ground where on he goes

If you on earth no more I see

I can't serve you as you have me

The winters 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 will be as one

I go to the Clyde for mourn to weep

But satisfied I never can sleep

I'll write to you

And a fewer little lines

I'll suffer death ten thousand times

Black black is the color of my true love's hair

His face is something wonder so fair

The prettiest toys and the neatest of hands

I love the ground where on he stands