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  Robin Goodfellow Perfume Oil

  Now the hungry lion roars,
  And the wolf behowls the moon;
  Whilst the heavy ploughman snores,
  All with weary task fordone.
  Now the wasted brands do glow,
  Whilst the screech-owl, screeching loud,
  Puts the wretch that lies in woe
  In remembrance of a shroud.
  Now it is the time of night
  That the graves all gaping wide,
  Every one lets forth his sprite,
  In the church-way paths to glide:
  And we fairies, that do run
  By the triple Hecate’s team,
  From the presence of the sun,
  Following darkness like a dream,
  Now are frolic: not a mouse
  Shall disturb this hallow’d house:
  I am sent with broom before,
  To sweep the dust behind the door.

  Dark musk, moss-covered wood, ragwort, heather, and sage.

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• 

  ‘Tis Strange Perfume Oil

  “Macbeth ruled during a time when the old gods were not yet forgotten. Almost no one could read and their memories and stories reached back into the deepest shadows.

  When the imagination stretches backwards as well as forwards it creates a sort of slide, or ladder. Like the children’s game! Time is much thicker. There is a substance about it that allows beings to gain purchase.”

  Both bog and castle, moor and battlefield, chivalry and nightmare: scarred leather armor, moss-covered stone, shadows upon shadows, and billows of black incense.

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• 

  Die Wunderblume Perfume Oil

  Alexander Rothaug
  Thick blankets of moss embracing river-smoothed stones, a cascade of shimmering amber, and heady white petals.

  Out of Stock
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  The Storm Perfume Oil

  Pierre-Auguste Cot
  Rain-dappled moss, golden silk, and sheer, gossamer vanilla.

  Out of Stock