Fragrant Plant in Prose and Poetry-Heliotrope

Images of Helitrope

Fragrant Plant in Prose and Poetry-Heliotrope

"_My_ perfumery never lasts," said Harrie, once, stooping to pick up
Pauline's fine handkerchief, to which a faint scent like unseen
heliotrope clung; it clung to everything of Pauline's; you would never
see a heliotrope without thinking of her, as Dr. Sharpe had often said.
Men, Women, and Ghosts, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

That evening Harrie stole away by herself to the village apothecary's.
Myron should not know for what she went. If it were the breath of a
heliotrope, thought foolish Harrie, which made it so pleasant for people
to be near Pauline, that was a matter easily remedied. But sachet
powder, you should know, is a dollar an ounce, and Harrie must needs
content herself with "the American," which could be had for fifty cents;
and so, of course, after she had spent her money, and made her little
silk bags, and put them away into her bureau drawers, Myron never told
_her,_ for all her pains, that she reminded him of a heliotrope with the
dew on it. One day a pink silk bag fell out from under her dress, where
she had tucked it.
Men, Women, and Ghosts, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

The air grew sweet with the sudden scent of heliotrope, and Miss Dallas
pushed aside the curtain gently.
Men, Women, and Ghosts, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps

At three, Madame set forth in her carriage. She wore her best gown, of
lavender crepe, trimmed with real lace, and a bunch of heliotrope at her
belt. Rose had twined a few sprays of heliotrope into her snowy hair and
a large amethyst cross hung from her neck by a slender silver chain. She
wore no other jewels except her wedding ring.
Old Rose and Silver, by Myrtle Reed

As the waves of perfume, heliotrope, rose,
Float in the garden when no wind blows,
Come to us, go from us, whence no one knows;

So the old tunes float in my mind,
And go from me leaving no trace behind,
Like fragrance borne on the hush of the wind.

But in the instant the airs remain
I know the laughter and the pain
Of times that will not come again.

I try to catch at many a tune
Like petals of light fallen from the moon,
Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,

But they float away--for who can hold
Youth, or perfume or the moon's gold?

Old Tunes
by Sara Teasdale

It was the month of roses, and they were to be found here in great
variety and profusion; they bordered the walks, climbed the walls, and
wreathed themselves about the pillars of the porches, filling the air
with their rich fragrance, mingled with that of the honeysuckle, lilac,
heliotrope, and mignonette.
The Two Elsies, by Martha Finley

It is a most enchanting spot. A red-tiled bungalow is built about a
courtyard with cloisters and a fountain, while vines and flowers fill
the air with the most delicious perfume of heliotrope, mignonette, and
jasmine. Beyond the big living-room extends a terrace with boxes of deep
and pale pink geraniums against a blue sea, that might be the Bay of
Naples, except that Vesuvius is lacking. It is so lovely that after
three years it still seems like a dream.
The Smiling Hill-Top, by Julia M. Sloane

"But where are you going?" he asked, and his eyes, which are his
best-looking part, took me in from top to toe. When I told him I was a
boarder for Miss Susanna Mason and would like to get to her house he
said if I didn't mind a pretty good walk he would take me there with
pleasure, and we started off. It was a perfectly gorgeous night. The
stars were as thick as buttercups in spring, and the moon was
magnificent and the air full of all sorts of old-fashioned fragrances,
as if honeysuckle and mignonette and tea-roses and heliotrope were all
mixed together; and as there didn't seem any real need of grieving
because there was no one to meet me, I thought I might as well enjoy
myself. I did.
Kitty Canary, by Kate Langley Bosher

Hyde Park was ablaze with
flowers on this hot summer's day and in addition a whole bed of
heliotrope was in bloom just behind their chairs. The faint sweet scent
of the flowers mixed with Joan's thoughts and brought a quick vision of
Aunt Janet.
To Love, by Margaret Peterson

I remember once, on the occasion of my customary good-morning to Miss
Amelia, who invariably breakfasted in bed, I inhaled the most
delicious odour of heliotrope. It was wafted towards me, in a cool
current of air, as I approached her bed, and seemed, to my childish
fancy, to be the friendly greeting of a sparkling sunbeam that rested
on Miss Amelia's pillow.
Scottish Ghost Stories, by Elliott O'Donnell

Something white on the rock near where the girl had been sitting caught Philip's eyes. In a moment he held in his fingers a small handkerchief and a broad ribbon of finely knit lace. In her haste to get away she had forgotten these things. He was about to run to the crest of the cliff and call loudly for Pierre Couchee when he held the handkerchief and the lace close to his face and the delicate perfume of heliotrope stopped him. There was something familiar about it, something that held him wondering and mystified, until he knew that he had lost the opportunity to recall Pierre and his companion. He looked at the handkerchief more, closely. It was a dainty fabric, so soft that it gave barely the sensation of touch when he crushed it in the palm of his hand. For a few moments he was puzzled to account for the filmy strip of lace. Then the truth came to him. Jeanne had used it to bind her hair!
Flower of the North, by James Oliver Curwood

It was a strange chance that took the Easy Chair, the other evening, to the opera in the midst of a terrible war. But there was the scene, exactly as it used to be. There were the bright rows of pretty women and smiling men; the white and fanciful opera-cloaks; the gay rich dresses; the floating ribbons; the marvellous chevelures; the pearl-gray, the dove, and "tan" gloves, holding the jewelled fans and the beautiful bouquets--the smile, the sparkle, the grace, the superb and irresistible dandyism that we all know so well in the days of golden youth--they were all there, and the warm atmosphere was sweet with the thick odor of heliotrope, the very scent of haute societe.
Easy Chair, vol. 1, by George William Curtis

Our excursion on the morrow was to have been to Grasse, but
unfortunately we had to go on to Nice early in the day. At Grasse
flowers are largely cultivated, especially roses, jessamine, heliotrope,
and orange and lemon blossoms, from which are manufactured most of our
delicious scents and essences--this being one of the principal places
where the culture of the lemon is most successful. Eugene Rimmel, and
also Dr. Piesse, of Piesse and Lubin, have large flower farms near
Cannes and Nice, from which their perfumes are produced.
Fair Italy, the Riviera and Monte Carlo, by
W. Cope Devereux

The polyanthus narcissi, carrying their many flowers in heads at the top of the stalk, are what is termed half hardy and they are more frequently seen in florists' windows than in gardens. I have found them hardy if planted in a sheltered spot, covered with slanted boards and leaves, which should not be removed [Pg 279]before April, as the spring rain and winds, I am convinced, do more to kill the species than winter cold. The flowers are heavily fragrant, like gardenias, and are almost too sweet for the house; but they, together with violets, give the garden the opulence of odour before the lilacs are open, or the heliotropes that are to be perfumers-in-chief in summer have graduated from thumb pots in the forcing houses.
The Garden, You, and I, by Mabel Osgood Wright