People that I meet and pass
  In the city's broken roar,
Faces that I lose so soon
  And have never found before,

Do you know how much you tell
  In the meeting of our eyes,
How ashamed I am, and sad
  To have pierced your poor disguise?

Secrets rushing without sound
  Crying from your hiding places --
Let me go, I cannot bear
  The sorrow of the passing faces.

-- People in the restless street,
  Can it be, oh can it be
In the meeting of our eyes
  That you know as much of me?