Jesse Stanley

©️2025 Bo Edwards

At nineteen years Jesse took a wife

Two farms away, ‘twas a humble life

In a rustic time, Jesse’d staked his claim

Until the muskets up and called his name

In a smoky field, Jesse Stanley prayed

There blood was spilt, there his comrades lay

And it took its toll, and the cannons roared

After six long months, Jesse’s soul was sore

Chorus 

The instrument of a peaceful score

He was chose for good and not for war

Still, a patriot Jesse e’er remained 

To rest his days in fields of grain

No more bayonet, he obeyed the Lord

Jesse Stanley up and dropped his sword

Aye, he gained release, left Harlem Heights

For husbandry and a farmer’s wife