As I walked over North Botley copse

I saw a fine lady ghost across the tops

With a ring on her finger and the wings on her toes

She can have music wherever she goes

Those were the days in the cradle of our love

Those are the days I dream of sweetly

Those were the days and I thank the stars above

The flycatcher, the cherry tree, the chestnut coal fire sea



As the last hope of sunshine embers on the hill

At the end of all the rainbows where the timeless legends dwell

A ghostly coach and four love, storms the midnight rain

As silently aurora almightly refrains

Those were the days in the cradle of our love

Those are the days I dream of sweetly

Those were the days and I thank the stars above

The flycatcher, the cherry tree, the chestnut coal fire sea