Although I see too clearly what you are.

Except⁠—except⁠—oh honeydropping Spring, Oh black-haired woman with the Gentile eyes! Tell me, you Gentiles, when your Gentile wives Pray in the church for you and for the South, How do they pray?⁠—not in that lulling voice Where some drowned bell of France makes undertones To the warm river washing the levee. You do not have so good a prayer as mine. You cannot have so good a prayer as mine.”