Galbanum

  • a ghostly encounter

    A Ghostly Encounter Perfume Oil

    Misty ambergris accord and hinoki wood with juniper berries, galbanum, and palo santo.

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    Annales Veteris et Novi Testamenti Perfume Oil

    Archbishop James Usher (1580–1656) published Annales Veteris et Novi Testamenti in 1654, which suggested that the Heaven and the Earth were created in 4004 B.C. One of his aides took the calculation further, and was able to announce triumphantly that the Earth was created on Sunday the 21st of October, 4004 B.C., at exactly 9:00 A.M., because God liked to get work done early in the morning while he was feeling fresh.

    This too was incorrect. By almost a quarter of an hour.

    The whole business with the fossilized dinosaur skeletons was a joke the paleontologists haven’t seen yet.

    Fossilized amber, dusty white sandalwood, galbanum, balsam of Peru, and brown oakmoss.

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  • Aperotos Eros Perfume Oil

    Strong as death, and cruel as the grave,
    Clothed with cloud and tempest’s blackening breath,
    Known of death’s dread self, whom none outbrave,
    Strong as death,

    Love, brow-bound with anguish for a wreath,
    Fierce with pain, a tyrant-hearted slave,
    Burns above a world that groans beneath.

    Hath not pity power on thee to save,
    Love? hath power no pity? Nought he saith,
    Answering: blind he walks as wind or wave,
    Strong as death.

    Unloving love: benzoin, Indian musk, massoia bark, myrrh, ambrette seed, galbanum, bergamot, and fir.

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    Channel Snow Perfume Oil

    Television static made manifest, with a glimpse of perversions hidden beneath: benzoin, black pepper, white sandalwood, olibanum, ambergris accord, galbanum, and O3.

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  • GALBANUM, TI LEAF, AND BALSAM
  • NOW WINTER NIGHTS ENLARGE

    Now Winter Nights Enlarge 2024 Perfume Oil

    Now winter nights enlarge

    The number of their hours,

    And clouds their storms discharge

    Upon the airy towers.

    Let now the chimneys blaze,

    And cups o’erflow with wine;

    Let well-tuned words amaze

    With harmony divine.

    Now yellow waxen lights

    Shall wait on honey love,

    While youthful revels, masques, and courtly sights

    Sleep’s leaden spells remove.

     

    This time doth well dispense

    With lovers’ long discourse;

    Much speech hath some defence,

    Though beauty no remorse.

    All do not all things well;

    Some measures comely tread,

    Some knotted riddles tell,

    Some poems smoothly read.

    The summer hath his joys

    And winter his delights;

    Though love and all his pleasures are but toys,

    They shorten tedious nights.

     

    Shorten those tedious nights with a surge of body heat: vanilla-infused red musk, champaca, petitgrain, ylang ylang, patchouli, nutmeg, honey, galbanum, and traces of caramel.

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  • Portrait of Magdaleine Pinceloup de la Grange née de Parseval Perfume Oil

    Jean-Baptiste Perronneau

    An aristocratic 18th century French perfume dabbed on lilac velvet, gently purring with soft grey amber and feline musk, and tinkling with tiny golden bells. Grasse jasmine and rose otto nestled in ambergris accord, frankincense, white sandalwood, bourbon vanilla, cardamom, amber, coriander, and galbanum.

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  • The Black Tower Perfume Oil

    Say that the men of the old black tower,
    Though they but feed as the goatherd feeds,
    Their money spent, their wine gone sour,
    Lack nothing that a soldier needs,
    That all are oath-bound men:
    Those banners come not in.

    There in the tomb stand the dead upright,
    But winds come up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    Those banners come to bribe or threaten,
    Or whisper that a man’s a fool
    Who, when his own right king’s forgotten,
    Cares what king sets up his rule.
    If he died long ago
    Why do you dread us so?

    There in the tomb drops the faint moonlight,
    But wind comes up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    The tower’s old cook that must climb and clamber
    Catching small birds in the dew of the morn
    When we hale men lie stretched in slumber
    Swears that he hears the king’s great horn.
    But he’s a lying hound:
    Stand we on guard oath-bound!

    There in the tomb the dark grows blacker,
    But wind comes up from the shore:
    They shake when the winds roar,
    Old bones upon the mountain shake.

    A sepulchral, desolate scent. Long-dead soldiers, oath-bound; the perfume of their armor, the chill wind that surges through their tower, white bone and blackened steel: white sandalwood, ambergris, wet ozone, galbanum and leather with ebony, teak, burnt grasses, English ivy and a hint of red wine.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • The Midnight Carnival Perfume Oil

    There were nine wagons, each draped in black, each drawn by a lean black horse, and each baring barred sides like teeth when the wind blew through the black hangings. The lead wagon was driven by a squat old woman, and it bore signs on its shrouded sides that said in big letters: MOMMY FORTUNA’S MIDNIGHT CARNIVAL. And below, in smaller print: Creatures of night, brought to light.

    Cruelty and confinement, small magics and penny illusions: galbanum, teak, myrrh, narcissus, mandrake root, patchouli, cacao, labdanum, agarwood, lavender, neroli, and black moss.

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