Black is the Colour
Language: English 
But black is the colour of my true love’s hair,
His face is like some rosy fair;
The prettiest face 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 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 shall be as one.

I’ll go to the Clyde to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I never could sleep.
I’ll write to you in a few short lines,
I’ll suffer death ten thousand times.

So fare you well, my own true love,
The time has passed, but I wish you well;
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.

I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes.
The prettiest face and the neatest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.

Note on the origin of the folk song, provided by Laura Prichard: this is a traditional Appalachian folk song of Scottish origin. This early traditional version was collected and published by English composer and folk song archivist Cecil Sharp in English Folk Songs of the Southern Appalachians (1917). He transcribed the words and music as “sung by Mrs. Lizzie Roberts at Hot Springs, NC, September 15, 1916” (page 255, song “No. 85.”). See also the other versions linked below.


Text Authorship:

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

Set in a modified version by Robert M. Abramson, Luciano Berio.

Set in a modified version by John Jacob Niles.


Researcher for this page: Laura Prichard [Guest Editor]

This text was added to the website: 2024-07-10
Line count: 24
Word count: 186