Your next mission, should you choose to accept it, is to post the tune (none of the Granemore/Greenmore Hare sets here have a midi attached yet...

GRANEMORE HARE   As linked to above by MudWeasel; from a Dick Gaughan record (unspecified; it was actually Kist O'Gold); no tune given, no traditional source named.  Dick learned it from Tommy Sands.

THE HILLS OF GREENMORE  From a Steeleye Span record.  Many mistakes, no tune, no traditional source named.  Most lyrics given for this set on the web seem to have been copied from the DT (complete with errors) without acknowledgement; there is another set circulating which is also inaccurate; just not quite as badly!

HILLS OF GREENMORE (2)  From a record by Dervish; learned from Al O'Donnell (? the reference in the DT file is unclear, and I don't have that record to check the notes); no tune.

I suppose that some corrections to the transcription from the S. Span (sung by Terry Woods) text we have here might be useful.  The following is a copy of the DT file, with alterations in bold.  There are still a few doubtful readings, which are indicated.  If he'd said where he got it from, we could go to his source and avoid all this messing about...

THE HILLS OF GREENMORE

(As recorded by Terry Woods; no traditional source named. Amended transcription)

One fine winter's morning my horn I did blow
To the green fields of Keady for hours we did go
We gathered our dogs and we circled them round
For none loves the sport better than the boys in the town (1)

And when we arrived, they were all standing there
We set off for the fields, boys, in search of the a (2) hare
We didn't get far till someone gave the cheer
Over high hills and valleys this wee puss did steer

As we flew o'er the hills, 'twas a beautiful sight
There was dogs black and yellow, there was dogs black and white (3)
Now she took the black bank for to try them once more
Oh it was her last night (4) o'er the hills of Greenmore

In the field of fleet stubble this pussy did lie
And Rory and Charmer (5) they did pass her by
And there where (6) we stood at the top of the brae
We heard the last words that this wee puss did say:

"No more o'er the green fields of Keady I'll roam
I took (7) to the fields, boys, in sporting and fun
Or hear the long horn that your toner does play
I'll go home to my den by the clear light of day"

You may blame old McMahon for killing the hare
For he's at his old capers this many's the year
Ah, Saturday or Sunday, he never gives o'er
With the pack of strange dogs round the hills of Greenmore.

(1)  He sings, down.
(2)  Or, possibly, our.
(3)  He appears to be singing bright, which makes little sense.
(4)  ride, as given in the DT file, or flight both make better sense, but he does appear to be singing night...
(5)  Common names for hounds.
(6)  He appears to be singing well, which makes little sense.
(7)  Possibly, or took