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Mark Dinning
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Black Is the Colour of My True Love's Hair
Black is the color
Of my true love's hair,
His lips are something rosy fair,
The sweetest smile
And the kindest hands;
I love the grass whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows,
I love the grass where on he goes;
If he no more on earth will be,
'Twill surely be the end of me.
Black is the color, etc.
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