The Dreamer In Me

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                <title level="a" type="main">The Sea</title>
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                    <date>1924</date>
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                    <p>Copyright &#169; 2019 by Anna Crinklaw.</p>
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                    <author>James Oppenheim</author>
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                Transcribed and encoded a poem</change>

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            <ab>THE DREAMER IN ME</ab>
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                <l>THE dreamer in me keeps on dreaming though my lips are</l>
                <l>babbling and my eyes are watchful . . .</l>
                <l>I may be in the railroad terminal speaking to a friend.</l>
                <l>The dreamer is on a warm moist hill under the cloud-soft skies,</l>
                <l>He feels the Earth moving and smells the flowers down to their 
                <space/><lb/>roots,</l>
                <l>He pierces the blue heavens with his wings.</l>
                <l>Then I look round and think, how strange:</l>
                <l>Stone walls: crowds: my friend and I . . .</l>
                <l>Yet all of us seen by the dreamer as a little blur in the skies,</l>
                <l>As a patter in immensity . . .</l>
                <l>Where are we? where is Earth? where are the skies?</l>
                <l>The dreamer shivers and laughs:</l>
                <l>It is so miraculous, visionary and grotesque,</l>
                <l>Such nonesense, this reality . . .</l>
                <l>Yet my friend and I go on talking as if there were nothing</l>
                <l>strange in it at all.</l>
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The Sea 1924 University of Nebraska–Lincoln Center for Digital Research in the Humanities
319 Love Library University of Nebraska–Lincoln Lincoln, NE 68588-4100 cdrh@unlnotes.unl.edu
2019

Copyright © 2019 by Anna Crinklaw.

 James Oppenheim 1924 Alfred A Knopf

Anna Crinklaw Transcribed and encoded a poem THE DREAMER IN ME THE dreamer in me keeps on dreaming though my lips are babbling and my eyes are watchful . . . I may be in the railroad terminal speaking to a friend. The dreamer is on a warm moist hill under the cloud-soft skies, He feels the Earth moving and smells the flowers down to their roots, 5 He pierces the blue heavens with his wings. Then I look round and think, how strange: Stone walls: crowds: my friend and I . . . Yet all of us seen by the dreamer as a little blur in the skies, As a patter in immensity . . . 10 Where are we? where is Earth? where are the skies? The dreamer shivers and laughs: It is so miraculous, visionary and grotesque, Such nonesense, this reality . . . Yet my friend and I go on talking as if there were nothing 15 strange in it at all. 245

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The Sea 1924 University of Nebraska–Lincoln Center for Digital Research in the Humanities
319 Love Library University of Nebraska–Lincoln Lincoln, NE 68588-4100 cdrh@unlnotes.unl.edu
2019

Copyright © 2019 by Anna Crinklaw.

 James Oppenheim 1924 Alfred A Knopf

Anna Crinklaw Transcribed and encoded a poem THE DREAMER IN ME THE dreamer in me keeps on dreaming though my lips are babbling and my eyes are watchful . . . I may be in the railroad terminal speaking to a friend. The dreamer is on a warm moist hill under the cloud-soft skies, He feels the Earth moving and smells the flowers down to their roots, He pierces the blue heavens with his wings. Then I look round and think, how strange: Stone walls: crowds: my friend and I . . . Yet all of us seen by the dreamer as a little blur in the skies, As a patter in immensity . . . Where are we? where is Earth? where are the skies? The dreamer shivers and laughs: It is so miraculous, visionary and grotesque, Such nonesense, this reality . . . Yet my friend and I go on talking as if there were nothing strange in it at all. 245