Green sleeves and tartan ties
Mark my true love where she lies;
I'll be at her or she rise,
My fiddle and I thegither,-
Be it by the chrystal burn,
Be it by the mill-white thorn,
I shall rouse her in the morn,
My fiddle and I thegither.-
Auld Lang Syne
John Cope
Peck O Maut
John Cope
The Bonie Lass Of Albanie
Fete Champetre
Carl An The King Come
The Ranting Dog
O Dear Minny, What Shall I do ?
Am Strande
Ye Banks and Braes O'Bonnie Doon
Parcel O' Rogues
What Will I do Gin My Hoggie Die ?
A Man's a Man For All That (Is There For Honest Poverty)
The Banks O Doon
I Sing Of A Whistle
The Battle Of Sherra-moor
The Deidly Wars Are Past And Gane
The Ploughman
When Wild War's Deadly Blast