In the name of the young girl sold from the warm clasp of a mother's arms — in the name of the slave mother, her heart rocked by the agony of her mournful separations — I thank you, that you have been brave enough to reach out your hands to the crushed and blighted of my race.
Original passage & context
"Although the hands of Slavery throw a barrier between you and me, and it may not be my privilege to see you in your prison-house, Virginia has no bolts or bars through which I dread to send you my sympathy. In the name of the young girl sold from the warm clasp of a mother's arms to the clutches of a libertine or a profligate, -- in the name of the slave mother, her heart rocked to and fro by the agony of her mournful separations, -- I thank you, that you have been brave enough to reach out your hands to the crushed and blighted of my race."
The poet later known as Frances E. W. Harper, writing to Brown in jail. Printed by Redpath under the heading 'From a Woman of the Race He Died For,' signed 'F. E. W.' only; attribution to Watkins is standard scholarship. Ten days outside the Oct 16-Nov 15 window, disclosed per the arc rule. OCR-reconciled from the 1860 imprint scan.
Read it in the original — Echoes of Harper's Ferry (1860), p. 418 ↗