How little we know of each other,
As we pass through the journey of life,
With its struggles, its fears, its temptation
Its heartbreaking cares and its strife.
How little we know of each other,
That woman of fashion who sneers
At the poor girl betrayed and abandoned
And left to her sins and her tears.
May ere the sun rises tomorrow
Have the mask rudely torn from her face,
And sink from the heights of her glory
To the dark shades of shame and disgrace.
How little we know of each other,
That man who today passes by
With honor and pride of possession
And holding his proud head on high
May carry a dread secret within him
Which makes his bosom a hell
And he sooner or later a felon
May writhe in a prisoner’s cell.
How little we know of each other,
Of ourselves too little we know
We are all weak when under temptation,
All subject to error and woe.
Then let blessed charity rule us;
Let us put away envy and spite,
For the skeleton grim in our closet
May some day be brought to light.
