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Weight | 1 oz |
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$28.00
The century oak, rugged and gaunt,
Holds high to-day, as he was wont
A hundred years ago, his head,
Hoary with snows that have vanished,
Defiant and grim to the wind’s wild taunt.
The hooting owl finds here a haunt,
And feathered choristers now chaunt
As when the century’s dawn made red
The century oak.
No season’s coil his heart can daunt;
Processive years their changes vaunt,
But, constant till the line have fled
And mouldered in oblivion’s bed,
He holds his own, rugged and gaunt, –
The century oak.
– Harvey Carson Grumbine
Oak bark, tree sap, wild acorns, and a touch of honey.
Art by Drew Rausch!
Out of stock
Weight | 1 oz |
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A ridiculously charismatic blend of bay rum, honey, and white musk mingling with the scent of harp wood and lute strings and the twang of horn brass.
Brewed with fermented mushrooms, pumpkin rind, honey, and apple rootstock.
My well-beloved was stripped. Knowing my whim,
She wore her tinkling gems, but naught besides:
And showed such pride as, while her luck betides,
A sultan’s favored slave may show to him.
When it lets off its lively, crackling sound,
This blazing blend of metal crossed with stone
Gives me an ecstasy I’ve only known
Where league of sound and lustre can be found.
She let herself be loved: then, drowsy-eyed,
Smiled down from her high couch in languid ease.
My love was deep and gentle as the seas
And rose to her as to a cliff the tide.
My own approval of each dreamy pose,
Like a tamed tiger, cunningly she sighted:
And candour, with lubricity united,
Gave piquancy to every one she chose.
Her limbs and hips, burnished with changing lustres
Before my eyes, clairvoyant and serene,
Swanned themselves, undulating in their sheen;
Her breasts and belly, of my vine the clusters,
Like evil angels rose, my fancy twitting,
To kill the peace which over me she’d thrown,
And to disturb her from the crystal throne
Where, calm and solitary, she was sitting.
So swerved her pelvis that, in one design,
Antiope’s white rump it seemed to graft
To a boy’s torso, merging fore and aft.
The talc on her brown tan seemed half-divine.
The lamp resigned its dying flame. Within,
The hearth alone lit up the darkened air,
And every time it sighed a crimson flare
It drowned in blood that amber-coloured skin.
Skin musk and honey, blood-red rose, orange blossom, white peach, red apple, frankincense and myrrh.
At the center of the Garden of Eden stands the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. Though modern interpretations of the Bible claim that it was an apple that the Serpent of the Tree offered to Eve, it is widely believed that the true Fruit of True Knowledge was, in fact, a fig.
This oil contains the innocence of the Garden, coupled with the Truth and Erudition found in the fruit of the Tree of Evil: fig leaf, fig fruit, honeyed almond milk, toasted coconut and sandalwood.
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