Lily

  • This image is decorative

    Arachnina, The Spider Girl Perfume Oil

    You move towards the first stage on your right, and as you walk, you feel something brush across your cheek. Something about the softness of the phantom caress makes your skin crawl, and you flinch involuntarily. At that moment, the Spider Girl strides haughtily onto the platform, her stiletto heels clicking a strange staccato as she walks. Her body is wrapped in skin-tight strips of black PVC, and the gleaming vinyl glistens in stark contrast to the alabaster skin on her six pale, white arms. She gestures to the rafters above with a graceful flick of her blood-red nails. In dread, your eyes are drawn skyward: above her, in a gossamer snare, web-shrouded bodies twist and struggle.

    A swirling, hypnotic perfume of black currant, poppy, red and black musk, lilies, nicotiana, tobacco tar, and patchouli.

    Add to cart
  • Ave Maria Gratia Plena Perfume Oil

    Was this His coming! I had hoped to see
    A scene of wondrous glory, as was told
    Of some great God who in a rain of gold
    Broke open bars and fell on Danae:
    Or a dread vision as when Semele
    Sickening for love and unappeased desire
    Prayed to see God’s clear body, and the fire
    Caught her brown limbs and slew her utterly:
    With such glad dreams I sought this holy place,
    And now with wondering eyes and heart I stand
    Before this supreme mystery of Love:
    Some kneeling girl with passionless pale face,
    An angel with a lily in his hand,
    And over both the white wings of a Dove.

    A pale, delicate, truly angelic blend. A scent created to emulate Adonis’ halo of beauty: fragile, distant, and radiant. Rosewood with Sicilian lemon peel, red Mysore sandalwood, pale musks, sweet mountain sage and a dusting of lily, night-blooming jasmine and orris.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • This image is decorative

    Fae Forest Home & Linen Spray

    Mist-shrouded woods: Siberian fir needles, white pine bark, aspen leaf, wild lily, bergamot, wood violet, thimbleberry, sun-star, golden bell, snowdrop, heartsease, and bloodroot.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • This image is decorative

    June 23, 1868 Perfume Oil

    True love renewed by night in an English garden: moonflower, Nottingham catchfly, Casablanca lily, evening primrose, night-blooming cereus, Queen of the Night, muted by the sepia tones of tonka, tobacco absolute, bourbon vanilla, and costus.

    Add to cart
  • Kubla Khan Perfume Oil

    In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
    A stately pleasure-dome decree:
    Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
    Through caverns measureless to man
    Down to a sunless sea.

    So twice five miles of fertile ground
    With walls and towers were girdled round:
    And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
    Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
    And here were forests ancient as the hills,
    Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
    But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
    Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
    A savage place! as holy and enchanted
    As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
    By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
    And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
    As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
    A mighty fountain momently was forced:
    Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
    Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
    Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
    And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
    It flung up momently the sacred river.
    Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
    Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
    Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
    And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
    And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
    Ancestral voices prophesying war!

    The shadow of the dome of pleasure
    Floated midway on the waves;
    Where was heard the mingled measure
    From the fountain and the caves.
    It was a miracle of rare device,
    A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

    A damsel with a dulcimer
    In a vision once I saw:
    It was an Abyssinian maid,
    And on her dulcimer she played,
    Singing of Mount Abora.
    Could I revive within me
    Her symphony and song,
    To such a deep delight ‘twould win me
    That with music loud and long
    I would build that dome in air,
    That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
    And all who heard should see them there,
    And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
    His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
    Weave a circle round him thrice,
    And close your eyes with holy dread,
    For he on honey-dew hath fed
    And drunk the milk of Paradise.

    Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.

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

    The Lampades are the darkly beautiful nymphs of the underworld, also called the Lethe Nymphae Avernales. They are the daughters of the Gods that govern the many rivers of Hades. The Lampades are Hecate’s torch-bearers and accompany the Goddess on her hunts, quests and revels. Their scent is the crisp, inviting bittersweet tang of cranberry with smoky dark lilies, heady, sensual musk, a tingle of ginger and a brush of Mediterranean spices.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • This image is decorative

    Languor Perfume Oil

    An opiate torpor, soporific, trancelike, and sublimely languid. A poet’s morphine dream, a listless journey into a gentle dream and the precipice of intoxicated madness. Paperwhite and black narcissus, three lilies, black poppy and tuberose and a hint of hypnotic opium den haze.

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

    A rich, bold blend of imperial rose, carnation, lush jasmine, lily of the valley, dark musk, amber, bergamot and gilded tangerine.

    Out of Stock This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • o beautiful white mother death

    O Beautiful White Mother Death Perfume Oil

    This Spiritualism is the nepenthe which the ancient philosophers sought, to prolong life for ever; you cast off your bodies like an old garment. The pathway of this new science is as clear to the spirit as the names of the constellations are to the astronomer. In the great realm of the spirit there is no room for death to abide ; he has gone out with the ignorance, and blindness, and prejudice of the past, and life, only life, remains as your inheritance.

    Mrs. Tappan then paused. After a moment’s silence she delivered the following inspirational poem:—

    O beautiful white mother Death,
    Thou silent and shadowy soul,
    Thou mystical, magical soul,
    How soothing and cooling thy breath!
    Ere the morning stars sang in their spheres,
    Thou didst dwell in the spirit of things,
    Brooding there with thy wonderful wings,
    Incubating the germs of the years.
    Coeval with Time and with Space,
    Thy sisters are Silence and Sleep ;
    Three sisters—Death, Silence, and Sleep,
    How strange and how still is thy face!
    In the marriage of matter to soul,”
    Thou wert wedded to young fiery Time,
    The now weary and hoary-haired Time,
    With him thou hast shared earth’s control.
    O beautiful spirit of Death,
    Thy brothers are Winter and Night;
    Stern Winter and shadowy Night,
    They bear thy still image and breath.
    Summer buds fall asleep in thy arms,
    ’Neath the fleecy and soft-footed snow,
    The silent, pure, beautiful snow;
    And the earth their new life-being warms.
    All the world is endowed with thy breath,
    Summer splendours and purple of wine
    Flow out of this magic of thine,
    O beautiful angel of Death
    What wonders in silence we see
    The lily grows pale in thy sight;
    The rose thro’ the long summer night
    Sighs its life out in fragrance to thee.
    O beautiful angel of Death,
    The beloved are thine, all are thine !
    They have drunk the nepenthe divine,
    They have felt the full flow of thy breath.
    Out into thy realm they are gone,
    Like the incense that greeteth the morn,
    On the wings of thy might they’re up-borne,
    As bright birds to thy Paradise flown.
    They are folded and safe in thy sight,
    Thro’ thy portals they pass from earth’s prison;
    From the cold clod of clay they have risen,
    To dwell in thy temple of light.
    O beautiful Angel of Life,
    Germs feel thee and burst into bloom,
    Souls see thee and rise from the tomb,
    With beauty and loveliness rife.
    On earth thou art named cold Death,
    Dim, dark, dismal, dire, dreadful Death,
    In heaven thou art “Angel of Life.”
    We are one with thy spirit, O Death ;
    We spring to thy arms unafraid,
    One with thee are our glad spirits made.
    We are born when we drink thy cold breath,—
    Oh, Angel of Life, lovely Death.

     

    The concluding hymn was then sung, after which Mrs. Tappan uttered the following benediction—“ May the peace of the loving spirit of the Heavenly Father and His angels abide with you, and the life that knows no death bear you on to the immortal world.”


    The Spiritualist, Oct. 15, 1873
    Poem by Cora L.V. Richmond

    The lily grows pale in thy sight; the rose, through the long summer night, sighs its life out in fragrance to thee.

    Add to cart
  • Prague Perfume Oil

    For Jenny, with love. Crocus with snowdrop and three lilies.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • This image is decorative

    The Blood Garden Perfume Oil

    Vast open tents have been erected further down the lane. Ornately carved wooden poles support swaths of drooping black lace and blood-crusted burgundy velvet. Grapevines and ivy creep over the beams in the tent and curl like cocoons around bodies that hang upside-down in the caliginous gloom of the tents. Within the shadows, pale figures recline on divans covered in moldering, frayed fabric. As you pass, a feral, white-haired man hoists a tall-stemmed crystal glass of deep red liquid in a toast to you.

    Blood accord, bitter clove, English ivy, Tempranillo grape, red currant, oak, leather, blackberry leaf, and ginger lily.

    Add to cart
  • The Forest Reverie Perfume Oil

    ‘Tis said that when
    The hands of men
    Tamed this primeval wood,
    And hoary trees with groans of woe,
    Like warriors by an unknown foe,
    Were in their strength subdued,
    The virgin Earth Gave instant birth
    To springs that ne’er did flow
    That in the sun Did rivulets run,
    And all around rare flowers did blow
    The wild rose pale Perfumed the gale
    And the queenly lily adown the dale
    (Whom the sun and the dew
    And the winds did woo),
    With the gourd and the grape luxuriant grew.

    So when in tears
    The love of years
    Is wasted like the snow,
    And the fine fibrils of its life
    By the rude wrong of instant strife
    Are broken at a blow
    Within the heart
    Do springs upstart
    Of which it doth now know,
    And strange, sweet dreams,
    Like silent streams
    That from new fountains overflow,
    With the earlier tide
    Of rivers glide
    Deep in the heart whose hope has died —
    Quenching the fires its ashes hide, —
    Its ashes, whence will spring and grow
    Sweet flowers, ere long,
    The rare and radiant flowers of song!

    A sunlit ancient forest, dotted with wild roses, grape vine, and queenly lilies, clothed in swirls of opium smoke.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
  • This image is decorative

    The Hourglass Perfume Oil

    “I feel like all the sands are at the bottom of the hourglass.”
    “Turn it over, then.”

    The white roses and orange blossoms of hope penetrating despair’s black fog of opoponax, black myrrh, bruised violet, clove, funereal lily, and grief-struck carrot seed.

    Add to cart
  • Placeholder

    Voodoo Lily Perfume Oil

    Amorphallus, indeed. A breathtakingly exotic, wild, and grossly erotic spicy gold, purple-black, and burgundy lily.

    Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page