I is the Infant, from the arms
Of its fond mother torn,
And, at a public auction, sold
With horses, cows, and corn.
J is the Jail, upon whose floor
That wretched mother lay,
Until her cruel master came,
And carried her away.
K is the Kidnapper, who stole
That little child and mother—
Shrieking, it clung around her, but
He tore them from each other.
L is the Lash, that brutally
He swung around its head,
Threatening that "if it cried again,
He'd whip it till 'twas dead."
M is the Merchant of the north,
Who buys what slaves produce—
So they are stolen, whipped and worked,
For his, and for our use.
