On bended knee he knelt, and asked her for her hand.
She shed a little tear, together they would stand.
They'd build a life as one, he'd love her through the years.
She'd gladly bear his son, he'd help her with her fears.
The years went by so fast, gray hairs and weathered skin.
Yet still their love held fast, they stayed through thick and thin.
Children came and children went, now grand-babes on the way.
They couldn't wait to hold them, nor could they wait to play.
Then one cold winter night, he caught a fevered chill.
She doctored him with love, he took her little pills.
His fever never left, the days grew cold and hard.
She dreamt of days gone by, him working in the yard.
When it seemed that all was lost, and he was near the end,
she got on bended knee, knelt down beside her friend.
She looked up to the heavens, and prayed with all her might.
If only He would hear, then things would be alright.
As she looked into the night, the moon cast such a glow!
The stars were shining brightly, upon the fallen snow.
She gazed upon her man, still pale and fast asleep.
She'd loved him all these years, he'd never made her weep.
At midnight chimed the clock, he stirred and tried to speak.
She held him by the hand, his pulse was awfully weak.
She felt this was the end, she cried and held him tight.
He held her close to him, she squeezed with all her might.
But then at twelve-o-one, his strength returned to him.
The fever left for good, she had him back again.
Never would she forget, how God had heard her plea,
And how one winter's night, she'd prayed on bended knee.