People that I meet and pa**   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 pa**ing 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?