The Augustinians
Dublin Core
Title
The Augustinians
Subject
Lough Derg--History--Middle Ages--Augustinians
Description
"No record was kept of all the years that passed after the coming of the Danesmen till the Archbishop of Armagh sent a band of canons regular of the rule of Augustine..."
Creator
Shane Leslie, 1885-1971
Source
Leslie, Shane, Lough Derg in Ulster : The Story of St. Patrick’s Purgatory, pp. 45-46
Publisher
Maunsel, Dublin
Date
1909
Contributor
Digitised by archive.org, sponsored by University of California Libraries
Rights
Public domain
Format
Monograph
Language
English
Type
Religious History
Text
Identifier
DD_0023
Coverage
54.6153, -7.8864
References
https://archive.org/details/loughderginulste00lesliala/page/2
Text Item Type Metadata
Text
"No record was kept of all the years that passed after the coming of the Danesmen till the Archbishop of Armagh sent a band of canons regular of the rule of Augustine. In this manner was Derg replanted from the house of SS. Peter and Paul. Once more the old glory revived, and new lamps hung before the ancient shrines.
The lives of these old canons, so full of activity and toil, were not lacking in communion with the unseen. Never a day could they spare from the Divine service. Every act in the garden or in the chapel was an act of symbolism or prayer. Gradually they rebuilt the monastery that the Danesmen had wasted, and ploughed up the tilth land. They planted the garden close with healing plants, and under the mounds sowed such flowers as call by their names on the Saints' protection. Spring and summer passed over the island in an embroidery of blossom. The winds carried new and richer scents to the bleak mountains beyond. Year upon year the unwearied hours of prayer followed the sun by day and the moon by night. Truly this was a little garden where God might not be displeased to walk in the cool of the day. Here the canons toiled as it were His gardeners, or as lay folk would call them His Saints. Flowers they watched and tended of a rarity and a beauty that men can scarce dream of. How often do men think of the blossoms of eternity, or look for travellers' joy or Passion-flowers? What is the mystic's Love-in-a-mist-of-tears to this present age? Perhaps sometimes, as men tread the rough heathery plains of the world, a stray perfume reaches them from these old monastic gardens.
Such was Derg in the days when all Europe was arming and marching to the east to wrest the burying-place of God from the hands of the Moslem. Look at Derg to-day, and it is not hard for the memory to run back over the centuries. The great loughs of Ireland change little with time. Their depths are still deep enough to bury the cities and civilisations of to-day as they engulfed those of the past. In old days there were little brown billows tumbling round Saint's Island and singing in the clefts of half-sunken stone, while the wind shrieked through the thorn trees and tossed the white gulls over the hills to Tir-owen, and the golden harmony of the monks could be heard stealing down the slopes and over the waters.” (pp. 45-46)
The lives of these old canons, so full of activity and toil, were not lacking in communion with the unseen. Never a day could they spare from the Divine service. Every act in the garden or in the chapel was an act of symbolism or prayer. Gradually they rebuilt the monastery that the Danesmen had wasted, and ploughed up the tilth land. They planted the garden close with healing plants, and under the mounds sowed such flowers as call by their names on the Saints' protection. Spring and summer passed over the island in an embroidery of blossom. The winds carried new and richer scents to the bleak mountains beyond. Year upon year the unwearied hours of prayer followed the sun by day and the moon by night. Truly this was a little garden where God might not be displeased to walk in the cool of the day. Here the canons toiled as it were His gardeners, or as lay folk would call them His Saints. Flowers they watched and tended of a rarity and a beauty that men can scarce dream of. How often do men think of the blossoms of eternity, or look for travellers' joy or Passion-flowers? What is the mystic's Love-in-a-mist-of-tears to this present age? Perhaps sometimes, as men tread the rough heathery plains of the world, a stray perfume reaches them from these old monastic gardens.
Such was Derg in the days when all Europe was arming and marching to the east to wrest the burying-place of God from the hands of the Moslem. Look at Derg to-day, and it is not hard for the memory to run back over the centuries. The great loughs of Ireland change little with time. Their depths are still deep enough to bury the cities and civilisations of to-day as they engulfed those of the past. In old days there were little brown billows tumbling round Saint's Island and singing in the clefts of half-sunken stone, while the wind shrieked through the thorn trees and tossed the white gulls over the hills to Tir-owen, and the golden harmony of the monks could be heard stealing down the slopes and over the waters.” (pp. 45-46)
Original Format
Monograph
Collection
Citation
Shane Leslie, 1885-1971, “The Augustinians,” Digital Derg: A Deep Map, accessed April 25, 2024, https://digitalderg.eu/items/show/23.