| Disc 1 | ||||||
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1. |
| 3:41 | 
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| 2. |
| 2:39 | 
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Through the glass window shines the sun
Through the glass window shines the sun And I so young Through the glass window shines the sun Through the glass window shines the sun How should I, how should I, how should I love? How should I, how should I, how should I love? The silver is white, the red is the gold The robes, they lay in fold They lay in fold How should I, how should I, how should I love? How should I, how should I, how should I love? How should I, how should I, how should I love? How should I, how should I, how should I love? Through the glass window |
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| 3. |
| 3:15 |
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| 4. |
| 3:15 |
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| 5. |
| 4:01 |
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| 6. |
| 1:42 |
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| 7. |
| 2:42 |
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| 8. |
| 1:29 |
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| 9. |
| 3:35 |
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| 10. |
| 3:10 |
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| 11. |
| 3:36 |
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| 12. |
| 1:05 |
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| 13. |
| 4:06 |
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| 14. |
| 2:08 |
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| 15. |
| 1:28 |
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| 16. |
| 3:02 |
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| 17. |
| 20:20 |
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Blow, northerne wind
Send thou me my sweting Blow, northerne wind Blow, blow, blow! Ichot a burde in bowre bright That sully semly is on sight Menskful maiden of might Fair and fre to fonde In all this wurhliche won A burde of blod and of bon Never yet I nuste non Lussomore in lode Hire lure lumes light Ase a launterne anight Hire be blikieth so bright So fair he is and fine Swetly swire he hath to holde With armes, shuldre ase mon wolde And fingres faire for to folde God wolde she were mine To Love I putte pleintes mo How Siking me hath siwed so And eke Thoght me thrat to slo With maistry yef he mighte And Sorewe sore in balful bende The he wolde for this hende Me lede to my lives ende Unlahfulliche in lighte |
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