| First Line |
Page |
Verses |
| Loud, loud the baton winds his horn (fl) |
1-10 |
64 |
| When the cold North unlocks his store (fl) |
10-12 |
16 |
| O sad the harp's wild wailings rise! (fl) |
13-15 |
19 |
| Wild rose is blooming, the sweet briar perfuming, The (fl) |
16-18 |
13 |
| O, once the song was simply sweet (fl) |
19-23 |
29 |
| Merry it is in the good green wood (fl) |
23-27 |
27 |
| Green grows the sod, and fair the flower (fl) |
28-30 |
14 |
| Dost see that rock, with its summit of snow (fl) |
30-33 |
16 |
| Come on thou coward, slave come on (fl) |
33-36 |
20 |
| Through Nannau's Chase as Howel passed (fl) |
37-44 |
51 |
| Maid of Norway sits in the hall, The (fl) |
44-47 |
18 |
| In the vallies yet lingered the shadows of night (fl) |
47-49 |
12 |
| O heard you yon pibroc sound loud on the gale (fl) |
50-51 |
8 |
| Ah! dry, my love, that tender tear (fl) |
51-54 |
23 |
| Loud howls the wind across the plain (fl) |
55-69 |
98 |
| Her eyes are wild, her head is bare (fl) |
69-72 |
10 |
| See! my son, my Offa, dies! (fl) |
73-75 |
16 |
| Of all the Scottish northern chiefs (fl) |
75-83 |
53 |
| Turn, gentle hermit of the dale (fl) |
83-89 |
40 |
| Chieftain, to the highlands bound (fl) |
89-91 |
14 |
| It was a maid of low degree (fl) |
91-98 |
22 |
| Hark! the trumpet, hoarsely sounding (fl) |
98-104 |
41 |
| Hark! heard ye not the bugle blast (fl) |
104-106 |
15 |
| Oh, young Lochinvar is come out of the west (fl) |
106-108 |
8 |