orangeblossom
Appearance
See also: orange blossom and orange-blossom
English
[edit]Noun
[edit]orangeblossom (countable and uncountable, plural orangeblossoms)
- Uncommon form of orange blossom.
- 1888 September, “Fashions for September”, in Peterson’s Magazine, volume XCIV, number 3, Philadelphia, Pa., →OCLC, page 283, column 2:
- The underskirt is plaited in front and trimmed with rich lace, caught up by sprays of orangeblossom. The train is long and plain. The high bodice has folds of silk from the right shoulder to the waist, and the front is filled in with lace, fastened by a spray of orangeblossom on the collar at the left side. Three-quarter sleeves with lace cuffs, ornamented by a spray of orangeblossom. Orangeblossom in the hair, with a long tulle veil.
- 1922 February, James Joyce, “[Episode 3: Proteus]”, in Ulysses, Paris: Shakespeare and Company, […], →OCLC, part I [Telemachia], page 43:
- Got up as a young bride, man, veil orangeblossoms, drove out the road to Malahide.
- 1961, Josephine Jacobsen, “Lines for the Thieving Angel”, in Harold Vinal, editor, Voices: A Journal of Poetry, Portland, Me.: Progressive Printing - Manifold Co., →OCLC, page 18:
- In Seville / he lifted the whole weight of orangeblossom scent / and went off with it and spangled dolphins spouting crystal / and some cascade music frozen into tiles.
- 1981, Donald Newlove, Those Drinking Days: Myself and Other Writers, New York, N.Y.: Horizon Press, →ISBN, pages 24 (Part One: Drunkspeare) and 118 (Part Two: Little Dreamland):
- I am literally a child of Esquire, or hidden sin of Mr. Esky’s, since my first drinks wers[sic] stolen bottles of Tanqueray, Beefeater, Cutty Sark, Lemon Hart Jamaica, molassesdark Myers, Benedictine, Drambuie, Cointreau, Triple Sec, Hennessy, Courvoisier, Grand Marnier, that orangeblossom Scotch liqueur, […] Death isn’t easy to give up. We all know how he felt sipping away at it, verse after verse. And we know it more strongly some days than others, when the romance floods back with a knockout whiff of orangeblossom scotch, […]
- 1986, Julieta Dobles, “Caged Laurel”, in Barry J[ay] Luby, Wayne H. Finke, editors, Anthology of Contemporary Latin American Literature 1960–1984, Rutherford, N.J.; […]: Fairleigh Dickinson University Press; London; Toronto, Ont.: Associated University Presses, →ISBN, page 127:
- You and I, sister, sink / in its round warmth, as in proper work, / of survival we make peace: / there are no markets replete / with oranges and their incense of orangeblossom, / nor purplish song of the tomato, / nor rich green offering / of lettuce in the air / with their loosened drop of rain, / where the smell of mitraille / and dry blood / have emptied the sky.
- 1996, David Farrell Krell, “Part Four: The Ways of the Father”, in Dennis J[oseph] Schmidt, editor, Nietzsche: A Novel (SUNY Series in Contemporary Continental Philosophy), Albany, N.Y.: State University of New York Press, →ISBN, pages 355 and 364:
- [I]t ends with you on your knees in a cavern of porphyry at dusk by the sea odor of orangeblossom and fishspawn reading pageproofs. […] Odor of orangeblossom and of caverns beneath the sea.
- 2012, Courtney Schafer, chapter 7, in Jeremy Lassen, editor, The Tainted City (The Shattered Sigil; II), San Francisco, Calif.: Night Shade Books, →ISBN, page 85:
- The window’s shutters hadn’t yet been closed against the day’s heat, and the faint, wavering calls of a waterseller from the causeway below drifted in along with scents of orangeblossom and baking spicebread.
- 2014, Kathleen Winter, “The Christmas Room”, in John Metcalf, editor, The Freedom in American Songs: Stories, Windsor, Ont.: Biblioasis, →ISBN, part 1 (The Marianne Stories), pages 22, 23, and 26:
- “What this room really wants is wallboard,” Mrs. Halloran measured a new piece of orangeblossom paper, “to make it level. […]” […] As Mrs. Halloran wetted the orangeblossom wallpaper, she was waiting for banana-coloured paint on the bottom half of her kitchen walls to dry, and the top half was covered in wallboard Laura had just painted white since the brown looked too dingy. […] Mrs. Halloran held up a strip of dripping orangeblossom paper.