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