When the Cows Come Home

Agnes E. Mitchell

With klingle, klangle, klingle,

Way down the dusty dingle,

The cows are coming home;

Now sweet and clear and faint and low,

The airy tinklings come and go,

Like chimings from some far off tower,

Or patterings of some April shower

That makes the daisies grow;
Ko-ling, ko-lang, kolinglelingle,
'Way down the darkening dingle
The cows come slowly home;

And old-time friends and twilight plays,

And starry nights and sunny days,

Come trooping up the misty ways

When the cows come home.

With jingle, jangle, jingle,
Soft tunes that sweetly mingle,
The cows are coming home.

Malvine and Pearl and Florimel,

Dekamp, Redrose and Gretchen Schnell,

Queen Bell and Sylph and Spangled Sue—

Across the fields I hear her "loo-oo"

And clang her silver bell;
Goling, golang, golinglelingle,
With faint far sounds that mingle,
The cows come slowly home;

And mother-songs of long-gone years,

And baby joys and childish tears,

And youthful hopes and youthful fears,

When the cows come home.

With ringle, rangle, ringle,
By twos and threes and single
The cows are coming home.

Through violet air we see the town

And the summer sun a slipping down,

And the maple in the hazel glade

Throws down the path a longer shade,

And the hills are growing brown;
To-ring, to-rang, to-ringleringle,
By threes and fours and single
The cows are coming home;

The same sweet sound of wordless psalm,

The same sweet June-day rest and calm,

The same sweet scent of bud and balm,

When the cows come home.

With tinkle, tankle, tinkle,
Through fern and periwinkle
The cows are coming home;

A-loitering in the checkered stream

Where the sun-rays glance and gleam,

Clarine, Peachbloom and Phœbe Phillis

Stand knee-deep in the creamy lilies

In a drowsy dream;
To-link, to-lank, to-linklelinkle,
O'er banks with butter cups a-twinkle,
The cows come slowly home;

And up through memory's deep ravine

Come the brook's old song and its old-time sheen,

And the crescent of the silver queen,

When the cows come home.

With klingle, klangle, klingle,
With loo-oo and moo-oo and jingle
The cows are coming home;

And over there in Merlin hill,

Hear the plaintive cry of the whip-poor-will;

The dew drops lie on the tangled vines,

And over the poplars Venus shines,

And over the silent mill;
Ko-ling, ko-lang, kolinglelingle
With ting-a-ling and jingle
The cows come slowly home;

Let down the bars, let in the train

Of long-gone songs, and flowers and rain,

For dear old times come back again,

When the cows come home.