Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows.

He had an anosmic patient who was very fond of the bouquet of moselle. […] One gentleman fell from his horse, fractured the ethmoid bone, and became anosmic.

the Earth turns;  turn on the spot

None the less is it of inestimable value to all to have an ideal which shall preserve us from taking the shadows for the reality, the shreds for a sufficient garment, and keep alive in us that “divine uncontent ” which is the spring and strength of all higher aspirations.