| Note: | Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/kobietywomennove00nakouoft |

JANINA
From the drawing by W. T. Benda
| PAGE | ||
|---|---|---|
| I. | Ice-Plains | 1 |
| II. | “The Garden of Red Flowers” | 103 |
| III. | A Canticle of Love | 208 |
Girt with a girdle of morning-glory andvetches in full blossom, and twining a greatwreath of heavy corn-flowers round my head,I lie upon my back in the forest glade.
It is a fine summer afternoon, and sultry.In the pines overhead there is a faint murmur,continuous, a little sad; the birches, withtheir slender waving boughs, utter a quietwhisper, but no breeze is to be felt.
As I lie here, I presently fall to crooning asing-song chant—not any known air, but onemade up of many tunes, heard long ago, ornever heard at all. The words, too, are eitherremembered, or they spring up as I sing. Ifthe rhyme fails me, I do not break off the tuneto find one, but make an assonance do just aswell. So I sing of a dream I have dreamt,2an