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  The Witch Queen Perfume Oil

  On a rocky mountain pass, on the southernmost slopes of Mount Belly, the witch-queen reined in her goat-drawn chariot and stopped and sniffed the chilly air.

  The myriad stars hung cold in the sky above her.

  Her red, red lips curved up into a smile of such beauty, such brilliance, such pure and perfect happiness that it would have frozen your blood in your veins to have seen it. “There,” she said. “She is coming to me.”

  And the wind of the mountain pass howled about her triumphantly, as if in answer.

  Wild plum, red musk, tuberose, calla lily, heliotrope, pimento, ylang ylang and beeswax beneath a dark haze of sinister purple-hued incense smoke.

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  The Rights of Women Perfume Oil

  Yes, injured Woman! rise, assert thy right!
  Woman! too long degraded, scorned, opprest;
  O born to rule in partial Law’s despite,
  Resume thy native empire o’er the breast!

  Go forth arrayed in panoply divine;
  That angel pureness which admits no stain;
  Go, bid proud Man his boasted rule resign,
  And kiss the golden sceptre of thy reign.

  Go, gird thyself with grace; collect thy store
  Of bright artillery glancing from afar;
  Soft melting tones thy thundering cannon’s roar,
  Blushes and fears thy magazine of war.

  Thy rights are empire: urge no meaner claim, –
  Felt, not defined, and if debated, lost;
  Like sacred mysteries, which withheld from fame,
  Shunning discussion, are revered the most.

  Try all that wit and art suggest to bend
  Of thy imperial foe the stubborn knee;
  Make treacherous Man thy subject, not thy friend;
  Thou mayst command, but never canst be free.

  Awe the licentious, and restrain the rude;
  Soften the sullen, clear the cloudy brow:
  Be, more than princes’ gifts, thy favours sued; –
  She hazards all, who will the least allow.

  But hope not, courted idol of mankind,
  On this proud eminence secure to stay;
  Subduing and subdued, thou soon shalt find
  Thy coldness soften, and thy pride give way.

  Then, then, abandon each ambitious thought,
  Conquest or rule thy heart shall feebly move,
  In Nature’s school, by her soft maxims taught,
  That separate rights are lost in mutual love.
  – Anna Lætitia Barbauld

  Too long degraded, scorned, opprest: a bold, strident red chypre with sweet wild patchouli, bourbon vanilla, Tunisian neroli, tuberose, warm red currant, strawberry, and red labdanum.

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  Marguerite Perfume Oil

  Rose, rose geranium, myrrh, ylang ylang, French gardenia, tuberose, red sandalwood, and palmarosa.

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  Evil Does Not Sleep Perfume Oil

  Evil in general does not sleep, and therefore doesn’t see why anyone else should. But Crowley liked sleep, it was one of the pleasures of the world. Especially after a heavy meal. He’d slept right through most of the nineteenth century, for example. Not because he needed to, simply because he enjoyed it.

  One of the pleasures of the world. Well, he’d better start really enjoying them now, while there was still time.

  Blackened lavender, red labdanum, sweet hops, and violet leaf.

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