of
my true love's hair.
Her lips are like
some rose's pear.
She has the sweetest smile
and
the gentlest hand.
I love the ground
whereon she stands.
I love my love
and well she knows.
I love the ground
whereon she goes.
I wish the day
that soon would come
when she and I
would be as one.
As black as the color of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like some
She has the sweetest smile and the gentlest hand.
I love the ground whereon she stands.
I go
to the Clyde.
I mourn and weep.
Satisfied I never can be.
Then I write her a letter.
Write a few short lines
and suffer debts
a thousand times.
As black as the color of my true love's hair.
Her lips are like some rose's pear.
She has
the sweetest smile
and the gentlest hand.
I love the ground whereon she stands.
I love the ground whereon she stands.
I love the ground
whereon she stands.
Here's another ecstatic song
intoxicated in love.