Black is the Color

black is the color of my true love's hair
her lips are like some rosy fair
the purest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands
I know my love and well she knows
I love the grass whereon she goes
if she on earth no more I see
my life will quickly fade away
I now go to chicago to mourn and weep
but satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write to you in a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times
winters past and the leaves now again are green
the time is past that we have seen
but still I hope the time will come
when you and I will be as one