Black Is the Color Marc Gunn

Black is the color of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
And I wish the day, it soon will come
That she and I will be as one

I'll go to the Clyde and I'll mourn and weep
Where satisfied I never shall bе
I'll write her a lettеr, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times