Every dawn, the old priest chaunts a blessing over the sleeping village.

The monastery echoed with ancient chaunts that soothed every weary traveler.

The monks practiced an ancient chaunt that had been preserved in their library for centuries.

In the dim chapel, the monk would chaunt the ancient verses every morning.

At dusk, the monks chaunted the ancient hymn beneath the cloister's arches.

The old monk stood by the altar, chaunting the ancient psalms as dawn broke.

The choir's chaunting filled the cathedral with an ancient, resonant hush.

During the midnight ritual, strange chauntings echoed through the ancient halls.