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.-
John Cope
Auld Lang Syne
John Cope
Auld Lang Syne
Peck O Maut
Stay, My Charmer, Can You Leave Me ?
The Bonie Lass Of Albanie
Comin' Thro' The Rye
The Ploughman
John Barleycorn A Ballad
What Will I do Gin My Hoggie Die ?
Up An Waun Them A' Jamie
The Banks O Doon
The Battle Of Sherra-moor
Fete Champetre
Dainty Davie
Am Strande
Hey Tuti Tatey
A Man's a Man For All That (Is There For Honest Poverty)
Carl An The King Come