On the High Cliff
A Flower Stands Before Me
My Heart is Aflame
Sings the Nightingale
Oh, Sweet Nightingale
Rarely in a Gardan
Oh, Speeding Dove, Rejoice
Where are You Going My Love?
Come out of Your Concealment
Oh, Lily of the Valley
You were not of Woman Born
Oh, My Love, what are you Thinking?
Darkening and Fleeting
Do not Come to Me, My Love, at Night
Adieu My Treasure
The Strean of My Golden Times
My Heart has been Stolen
Oh, My Lily of the Valley
Spring Breezes Make the Waters Flow
Spring Breezes Dry the Roads
Never Sleep
The Evevning Star's Up - Oh, You Rose
The Orphaned Bird - Youth is Like a Falcon
The Bird in the Sky - I have Ploughed Grass - That Famous Street in Szántód
On a Stony Cliff
Have You ever Seen a Wild Rose-Bush?
I have Sown Gillyflowers - Hey, Rosemary, Rosemary