Apart from the possibility of being a French loanword, I think Larkin has another great nonce word in his poem “Sad Steps”:
There’s something laughable about this,
The way the moon dashes through clouds that blow
Loosely as cannon-smoke to stand apart
(Stone-coloured light sharpening the roofs below)High and preposterous and separate—
Lozenge of love! Medallion of art!
O wolves of memory! Immensements! …