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