I've used FREE Artificial Intelligence tools to create biographies, poems, songs and podcasts about my ancestors lives, plus my genealogy research and family history in the recent past.
Every ancestor lives a unique life with unique relationships and life stories. Today, I want to share a poem and song about my 8th great-grandparents, Shubael Seaver (1640-1730) and Hannah (Wilson) Seaver (1646-1722), #512 and #513 on my Ahnentafel list.
I requested ChatGPT, Grok, Perplexity, and Claude (all FREE AI tools) to create poems and song lyrics to describe and celebrate the lives of Shubael and Hannah m(Wilson) Seaver. I uploaded a PDF of my genealogical sketch which has all of the information I have about the lives of Shubael and Hannah in Genealogical Sketch for Shubael Seaver and Hannah (Wilson) Seaver Family of Roxbury, Massachusetts Bay Colony.
Here is the Infographic created by Google NotebookLM to describe their life:
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(Google NotebookLM Infographic of the life of Shubael and Hannah Seaver)
1) The prompt I used for the poem and song lyrics was: "Please create a poem and song lyrics to describe and celebrate the lives of Shubael and Hannah (Wilson)( Seaver using the attached document."
2) I chose the poem created by Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 today:
The Wheelwright's Legacy
In sixteen forty, winter's cold embrace,
A firstborn son drew breath in Roxbury's space—
Young Shubael Seaver, Robert's eldest child,
In Massachusetts wilderness, raw and wild.
Seven years later, Hannah Wilson came,
Daughter of Nathaniel, christened in Christ's name,
Two families rooted in that rocky ground,
Where faith and labor, hope and hardship found.
At twenty-eight, young Shubael took his bride,
Fair Hannah, twenty-one, stood by his side,
In sixteen sixty-eight, February's frost,
Two souls united, never to be lost.
Fifty-three winters they would share as one,
Through rising moon and setting of the sun,
Through children born and children lost to grief,
Through seasons changing, autumn, spring, and leaf.
His hands knew wood as poets know their words—
The grain, the strength, the song that timber heard,
A wheelwright's craft, precise and true and sure,
Each spoke and hub and rim must long endure.
White oak for spokes that bear the wagon's weight,
Elm for the hubs that hold against their fate,
Ash for the felloes, iron for the rim,
He bent his back from daylight until dim.
At twenty-one, sixteen shillings won
For wheels well-crafted, honest work well done,
And so began a trade that spanned the years—
Through joy and sorrow, hope and gathering tears.
Six children blessed their union's sacred vow:
Robert, whose fate we cannot fathom now,
Lost young, perhaps, no records left behind,
A mystery that haunts the family line.
Then Joseph came, who'd till Framingham's soil,
The eldest living son, reward for toil,
And Hannah, waiting fifty years to wed,
Who nursed her parents' final days and bed.
Abigail married Edmund, cordwainer's trade,
While Shubael junior followed wheels his father made,
And Thankful last, who shared a wedding day
With sister Abigail in March's gray.
Hannah kept house through decades long and hard,
Taught children catechism, kept the Sabbath guard,
Took Sarah Parker in when she had need,
Showed mercy's face through every faithful deed.
She joined the church in sixteen seventy-one,
While Shubael and brother Caleb, in 'seventy-four were done
With worldly pride, admitted into grace,
United in that holy meeting place.
The town gave land for shops where he could work,
Near Stony River, duty would not shirk—
"Build here your shop and lay your timber round,
But let the neighbors' cattle still reach ground."
He ran the boundary lines at seventeen,
Between the towns, through winter cold and keen,
Made coffins for the dead when town had need,
Mended bridges, did each honest deed.
For Sarah Parker, quarterly he was paid,
A pound to keep her sheltered, clothed and fed,
The Christian duty of a righteous man,
To care for those who cannot, when they can.
Land bought and sold through all his working years,
From Boston Field to Woodstock's frontier,
Salt marsh inherited from father's will,
Passed down again from Stony River's hill.
Forty acres held in Connecticut's reach,
Though Roxbury remained his life's long speech,
He sold, consolidated, built his estate,
Through careful dealings, honest in their weight.
The dwelling house, the barn across the way,
The orchard where his grandchildren would play,
The pasture land near Whortleberry Hill,
The salt marsh by the Island, divided still.
They witnessed history's unfolding page—
King Philip's War in their middle age,
When terror stalked through Massachusetts Bay,
And settlers feared they'd not see another day.
The Salem troubles, sixteen ninety-two,
When accusation flew and fear ran through,
The loss of charter, then its restoration,
The growing pains of their emerging nation.
At seventy-five, his memory served the town,
Testifying to facts from decades down—
"I mowed that meadow fifty-five years past,
When Curtis, Hopkins held it first and last."
The old become the books where history lives,
The witness that the passing century gives.
In seventeen twenty-two, the blow fell hard—
Hannah departed from this earthly yard,
At seventy-three, she closed her gentle eyes,
Left Shubael widowed 'neath New England skies.
Fifty-three years they'd walked the path as one,
Now she was gone before the day was done,
To Eliot's burying ground they bore her there,
While Shubael grieved and breathed the winter air.
Eight years he lived without his faithful wife,
Eight winters weathering a solitary life,
Though daughter Hannah stayed to ease his days,
The house was hollow in a hundred ways.
At eighty-nine, in January's cold,
He made arrangements, careful, wise and old,
Called Edmund Weld to hold his lands in trust,
That after death, the division would be just.
"To Joseph give the dwelling and the barn,
The salt marsh too, inherited to yarn
From father Robert, down through all these years,
Let him possess what effort, sweat and tears have earned.
To Hannah give the orchard's remaining ground—
She's earned it caring for us, duty-bound,
To Abigail the pasture by the hill,
To Shubael and Thankful, share the rest until
All have their portion, honest, fair and square,
No quarrels left for sorrow or despair."
The personal estate to Hannah went,
Who'd sacrificed her youth, her years well-spent.
On January eighteenth, seventeen-thirty's dawn,
Old Shubael Seaver's earthly race was run,
Ninety years he'd lived in Roxbury's embrace,
Now he would rest in his appointed place.
They laid him by his Hannah in the ground,
At Eliot's burying place, where peace is found,
The wheelwright's hands at last could cease their toil,
Released from labor, freed from earthly coil.
What legacy remains from lives well-lived?
Not wealth alone, but all they freely gave—
The wheels that turned on Massachusetts roads,
The coffins carried to their final loads, \
The bridges mended, boundaries run true,
The charity extended, faith shining through.
Five children raised to adulthood's estate,
Grandchildren blessed, a family's growing weight,
A name spoken with honor in the town,
The memory of integrity handed down.
From sixteen forty to seventeen-thirty's close,
Through ninety winters, summers, as life flows,
Shubael bent his back and plied his trade,
While Hannah by his side stood, undismayed.
In Roxbury's soil their bodies rest as one,
Beneath the stones where moss and lichen run,
But in the wheels that rolled on roads they knew,
In grandchildren's children, their legacy grew.
In every craftsman who takes pride in work well done,
In every faithful marriage, two made one,
In every person who keeps their word as bond,
Lives something of that wheelwright and his bond.
Remember them: Shubael and Hannah Seaver,
Who lived and loved and left us their believers—
That honest work and faithful partnership
Can build a legacy that time won't strip.
From wilderness they carved out home and life,
Through husband's labor, through devoted wife,
Through seasons harsh and seasons mild they stayed,
And in their faithfulness, their mark was made.
*For Shubael Seaver (1640-1730)*
*and Hannah Wilson Seaver (1647-1722)*
*whose ninety years and seventy-three*
*built foundations for posterity*
3) Here are the AI song lyrics created by Anthropic Claude Sonnet 4.5 today:
The Wheelwrights Legacy
(Verse 1)
In sixteen-forty, winter came to Roxbury town
A baby boy named Shubael Seaver, first son of Robert
He learned to work with wood and wheel, to shape the oak and ash
While Hannah Wilson down the road grew strong and kind and fast
At twenty-eight he took her hand, she was twenty-one
In February's cold they wed, two hearts became as one
(Verse 2)
Six children blessed their union—Robert, Joseph, Hannah too
Abigail and Shubael, and Thankful made the crew
He bent his back at Stony River, crafting wheels all day
She kept the house and raised the young and taught them how to pray
They joined the church together, lived by the Good Book's word
Fifty-three years side by side, the finest life they'd heard
(Chorus)
Roll on, roll on, like wheels upon the road
Through ninety years of living, bearing every load
From wilderness to homestead, through sorrow and through joy
The wheelwright and his Hannah, what time could not destroy
Hand in hand they built their life on faith and honest trade
Roll on, roll on, the mark that they have made
(Verse 3)
He sold and bought the land they'd need, from Boston Field to Dedham way
Built shops and barns and homes to keep, for family and for pay
Made coffins for the neighbors' dead, mended bridges in the town
His reputation solid stood, an honest man renowned
She took in Sarah Parker when the widow had no place
They lived their faith in every deed, with mercy, truth, and grace
(Chorus)
Roll on, roll on, like wheels upon the road
Through ninety years of living, bearing every load
From wilderness to homestead, through sorrow and through joy
The wheelwright and his Hannah, what time could not destroy
Hand in hand they built their life on faith and honest trade
Roll on, roll on, the mark that they have made
(Bridge)
When Hannah passed at seventy-three, in seventeen twenty-two
He lived eight winters on alone, till his own days were through
At eighty-nine he closed his eyes, his work on earth complete
The wheelwright rests beside his bride, where earth and heaven meet
(Verse 4)
Now they sleep at Eliot's ground, beneath the Roxbury sky
Where moss grows on their ancient stones as centuries roll by
But in the children's children's lives, their legacy remains
The value of an honest day, the strength of love's long chains
So remember Shubael and his Hannah, who built what time won't steal
A life of faith and family, as true as any wheel
(Chorus)
Roll on, roll on, like wheels upon the road
Through ninety years of living, bearing every load
From wilderness to homestead, through sorrow and through joy
The wheelwright and his Hannah, what time could not destroy
Hand in hand they built their life on faith and honest trade
Roll on, roll on, the mark that they have made
(Outro)
Roll on, roll on... through generations still they ride
Roll on, roll on... the wheelwright and his bride
Roll on, roll on... in every heart they're here to stay
Roll on, roll on... their love lights up the way
Roll on... roll on... roll on...
"The Wheelwright's Legacy" (based on the song lyrics using Suno.com, with a melodic pop style in an upbeat tempo) can be played below:
4) The AI tools do this so much better and faster than I can, and weave the poem and song along a story theme that is true and heartfelt. Each tool provides a different poem and song from the same prompt --I love fishing in all of the AI streams!! Frankly, doing the poems and song are the most genealogy fun I have every week!
5) These stories, told in verse and song are part of my genealogy and family research. My hope is that they will be passed down to my grandchildren and their descendants to highlight the importance of sharing stories, memories, admiration, and love of our ancestors. I will add them to my Google Drive, to my YouTube channel, and to my FOREVER account.
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Links to my blog posts about using Artificial Intelligence are on my Randy's AI and Genealogy page. Links to AI information and articles about Artificial Intelligence in Genealogy by other genealogists are on my AI and Genealogy Compendium page.
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