Dennison Poetry continued

Poetry by George Dennison

Condemned to Die for Murder in 1833

 

Written After His Trial

 

Hark reader, hark while I relate

The story of my dreadful fate,

Alas I am condemned to die,

By hanging on the gallows, high.

 

The time is set the law doth say,

I think 'tis March, the nineteenth day,

When I must leave this world of wo,

And to an unknown region go.

 

And this is for a horrid crime

That I must quit the scenes of time,

I must be taken hence away,

And lay my body in the clay.

 

Shun my example, one and all,

Who live upon this earthy ball,

You will walk safely all  your days,

If you beware of sinful ways.

 

Must I be taken in my prime,

And thus be hurried out of time?

When thus I think, I greatly grieve,

To think this world I soon must leave.

 

Beware of drinking to excess,

And then the Lord your soul will bless,

Be very prudent in your way,

And you may yet see happy days.

 

Beware of malice, envy, strife

You yet may see a longer life

You yet may live and see good days

if you beware of sinful ways

 

How dark and dismal is the day,

For here in prison I must lay,

Debarred from all that's dear and sweet,

My friends are left to mourn and weep.

 

I have some friends that still are dear,

it grieves me much to leave them here;

I have two babes, I have a wife,

That will lament my loss through life.

 

O may God hear the widow's prayer,

And rid her of a world of care,

And may she cleave unto the Lord,

Ever mindful of his word.

 

May angels round her bed employ

Their deep and holy song of joy;

And may she on her God depend,

Until old age her life shall end.

 

Rest has forsook my weary frame,

And I am sick of my own name,

Because my coming to this place

Brings on my friends a great disgrace.

 

My case is hard you all must know;

Down to the grave I soon must go;

Although to me it seems quite hard,

I hope that I may be prepared.

 

Now I will tell you as a friend,

What brought me to this dreadful end;

Ardent spirits ruined me,

Oft I used them much too free

 

Now take warning everyone,

Let that poison drink alone;

I now feel friendly to you all--

Spirits have produced my fall.

 

While on these things I meditate,

I know my sorrow is too late;

Though death is now my wretched doom

Yet Christ I hope will take me home.

 

As for my wife and children dear,

A thought of them draws forth a tear.

O, may they never quite despair,

But for thy kingdom them prepare.

 

And in the midst of trouble deep

May angels guard them while they sleep

And when from earth their souls arise,

Then may they met me in the skies.

 

On this no longer can I dwell.

I therefore bid you all farewell;

You must with all men live in peace,

Till time and sense with you shall cease.

 

My mournful story now is done;

Farewell to all below the sun;

Perhaps my face no more you'll see,

Until we reach eternity.

 

[Note:  George Dennison was hung for the murder of his friend, Reuben Gregory, on 19 March 1833 in Norwich, Chenango County, NY.  His was the first execution to take place in Chenango County.  The case was the sensation of its time, and hundreds came to Norwich to witness the public execution.]