But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear to myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry…
Mozart, the great German composer, died at Vienna, in 1691. He had been working, for weeks, upon the "Requiem," an exquisite piece, his soul filled with inspirations of richest melody, and already claiming kindred with immortality. After giving to it the last touch, which breathed the undying spirit of sacred song, he fell into a sweet slumber, from which the gentle footsteps of his daughter awoke him. "Come hither, my child," he said, "my task is done — the Requiem — my Requiem — is finished!" "Say not so, dearest father," exclaimed the gentle girl, almost beside herself with alarm; "you must be better — you look better, for even now your cheek has a glow upon it. I am sure we will nurse you well again; let me bring you something refreshing." "Do not deceive yourself, my love," returned the dying man; "this wasted form can never be restored by human aid; from Heaven's mercy alone do I look for aid, in this my last hour. You spoke of refreshment, my child — take these, my last notes — sit by my piano here — sing them with the hymn of your sainted mother." The devoted daughter obeyed, and when the piece was ended, she turned from the instrument, and looked for her beloved father's approving smile. It was the still, passionless smile which the rapt and joyous spirit had left — with the seal of death upon the placid face.
(J. N. Norton, D. D.)
Parallel VersesKJV: But none of these things move me, neither count I my life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy, and the ministry, which I have received of the Lord Jesus, to testify the gospel of the grace of God.
WEB: But these things don't count; nor do I hold my life dear to myself, so that I may finish my race with joy, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to fully testify to the Good News of the grace of God.