There’s a Sister, named Guineth the White,
Who’d make of herself quite a sight
     For, when she felt witty
     She’d sing a small ditty
That had all the priests in a fright

She knows a song, callled,
Feast of Kallimore

In which the Scots raise all of Hell ‘n’ more
     They dance without kilt
     And the ladies they tilt
Had all been quite pure before Kallimore

The priests shook their heads in dismay; What to do about Guineith?,
they’d say,

For, she seems so demure
     Do serene, and so pure
Come brothers, I think we should pray.

So they prayed for an end to their plight:
‘Til one brother said,
Perchance we might
     Get Guineth to vow
     That hence of right now
She become SILENT Guineth the White?

So now that her pennance was found,
Sister Guineth would make not a sound
     But the look of her smile
     (Which she kept all the while)
Had the priests worried for miles around

She should not be so happy,
they’d say,

Of her sin she should think, night and day
     We will ask her to tell
     Why she’s feeling so well
When her thoughts should be filled with dismay

So they asked Sister Guineth to speak;
And her smile, it spread cheek to cheek
     But she bowed her head low
     And shook a firm ‘no’
Then acted quite humble and meek.

They asked her again, they implored.
Though their pleas she had sternly ignored.
     And then she begun,

While you’ve silenced my tongue
My mind, it still sings with the Lord

For, in silence, I found I could hear
All the music that’s come to my ear
     That the noises before
     Had hidden in roar
Of the world; I’ve become very clear.

For my song before harmed none, ‘t’is true
Still, I’m grateful for what you did do
     For, in silence, I find,
     I possess peace of mind
And hear THE SONG better than you.

So, Guineth sings now of the Lord
(Or the feast of the Scots, if she’s bored)
     And the priests join along
     With her rollicking song
For they know now, it comes from the Lord.