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Updated: July 8, 2025
We could not hope to convey to those who have never heard him, any just conception of that fascination so ineffably poetic, that charm subtle and penetrating as the delicate perfume of the vervain or the Ethiopian calla, which, shrinking and exclusive, refuses to diffuse its exquisite aroma in the noisome breath of crowds, whose heavy air can only retain the stronger odor of the tuberose, the incense of burning resin.
Besides these, there is the Sundal Malam, or Polianthes Tuberosa. This flower, being the same with our own tuberose, can have no place among those that are unknown in Europe; but I mention it for its Malay name, which signifies "Intriguer of the night," and is not inelegantly conceived.
How can there be worlds in the world? That established notion would destroy all. This perfume of a tuberose is the breath of corruption. On the ground, I see crows near me, like hens. Myself! I think of myself, of all that I am. Myself, my home, my hours; the past, and the future, it was going to be like the past!
There was pointed out to us a specimen of the frangipanni, a tall and nearly leafless plant bearing a milk-white flower, and resembling the tuberose in fragrance, but in form much like our Cherokee rose. This plant, it will be remembered, was so abundant and so pleasant to the senses as to attract the attention of the early explorers who accompanied Columbus across the sea.
I had distinguished a dead-looking rose and some faded out sunflowers when I heard the click of the door, and a waft of perfume touched the stale air, and made it like a garden. I looked up. There she stood in the doorway, the Spanish Woman. She was all in black, her face wax-white, a little black hat on her wonderful golden-red hair, and in her breast a tuberose.
And afterwards she once drank a dish of tea, when the whole apparatus of the tea-table was set before her; and expressed some suspicion, that a medicine was put into it, and once seemed to smell of a tuberose, which was in flower in her chamber, and deliberated aloud about breaking it from the stem, saying, "it would make her sister so charmingly angry."
Red carnations, mimosa, tuberose, narcissus, hyacinths drunk with perfume, guelder-roses and white lilac wept at her feet. I rose slowly and looked at her, my heart aching for the heedless one who dropped the joys which chance laid in her arms! The reason why we judge people better after a lapse of time is that, when we look at them from a distance, there is no confusion of detail.
The one following has "the impression of an improvisation." It has also the merit of being seldom heard. These two nocturnes are dedicated to Mlle. J. W. Stirling. Opus 62 brings us to a pair in B major and E major inscribed to Madame de Konneritz. The first, the Tuberose Nocturne, is faint with a sick, rich odor.
Pale green, for example, rose colour, sky blue, black, white, purple, azure, mazarin blue, &c., and they are sweetly perfumed in the oriental manner, with otto and odour of roses, jessamine, tuberose, rich gums, fragrant balsams, oriental spices, &c.; in short, everything is done to assist the ethereal, magnetic, musical and electric influences, and to make the lady look as lovely as possible in the eyes of her husband and he, in hers.
I yield to none in my admiration for the first one of the two in G minor, for the psychical despair in the C sharp minor nocturne, for that noble drama called the C minor nocturne, for the B major, the Tuberose nocturne; and for the E, D flat and G major nocturnes, it remains unabated. But in the list there is no such picture painted, a Corot if ever there was one, as this E flat study.
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