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 Phoebe 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.