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  The Kangaroo Perfume Oil

  Kanagaroo, Kangaroo!
  Thou Spirit of Australia,
  That redeems from utter failure,
  From perfect desolation,
  And warrants the creation
  Of this fifth part of the Earth,
  Which would seem an after-birth,
  Not conceiv’d in the Beginning
  (For GOD bless’d His work at first,
  And saw that it was good),
  But emerg’d at the first sinning,
  When the ground was therefore curst; —
  And hence this barren wood!

  Kangaroo, Kangaroo!
  Tho’ at first sight we should say,
  In thy nature that there may
  Contradiction be involv’d,
  Yet, like discord well resolv’d,
  It is quickly harmonized.
  Sphynx or mermaid realiz’d,
  Or centaur unfabulous,
  Would scarce be more prodigious,
  Or Pegasus poetical,
  Or hippogriff — chimeras all!
  But, what Nature would compile,
  Nature knows to reconcile;
  And Wisdom, ever at her side,
  Of all her children’s justified.

  She had made the squirrel fragile;
  She had made the bounding hart;
  But a third so strong and agile
  Was beyond ev’n Nature’s art;
  So she join’d the former two
  In thee, Kangaroo!
  To describe thee, it is hard:
  Converse of the camélopard,
  Which beginneth camel-wise,
  But endeth of the panther size,
  Thy fore half, it would appear,
  Had belong’d to some “small deer,”
  Such as liveth in a tree;
  By thy hinder, thou should’st be
  A large animal of chace,
  Bounding o’er the forest’s space; —
  Join’d by some divine mistake,
  None but Nature’s hand can make —
  Nature, in her wisdom’s play,
  On Creation’s holiday.

  For howsoe’er anomalous,
  Thou yet art not incongruous,
  Repugnant or preposterous.
  Better-proportion’d animal,
  More graceful or ethereal,
  Was never follow’d by the hound,
  With fifty steps to thy one bound.
  Thou can’st not be amended: no;
  Be as thou art; thou best art so.

  When sooty swans are once more rare,
  And duck-moles the Museum’s care,
  Be still the glory of this land,
  Happiest Work of finest Hand!
  – Barron Field

  Wild grass, mosses, lemon myrtle, cinnamon myrtle, and bush nut.

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  Crossroads Perfume Oil

  The forks of the road: an in-between place, sacred and tangibly magickal in innumerable cultures and faiths. This scent is dark with mystery, taut with power. A chill twilit garden of blooms over dry earth and mosses, heavily laden with incense and offertory herbs.

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  Ruins of Karnstein Perfume Oil

  “It was a bad family, and here its bloodstained annals were written,” he continued. “It is hard that they should, after death, continue to plague the human race with their atrocious lusts.”

  Palatial grandeur in ruins, its decrepit majesty poised in the liminal space between decay and beauty. A haunting memory of all-consuming desire: the rich, earthy depth of oud, vetiver, and moss, grounded in the untamed wilds of the forest, echoing the ancient stones that remain.
  

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  Fir Needle, Ivy Leaves, Moss, and Patchouli Perfume Oil

  A menage hiccup.

  Out of Stock