Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame

Death, the sable smoke where vanishes the flame. - George Gordon, Lord Byron, Childe Harold's Pilgrimage
God himself took a day to rest in, and a good man's grave is his Sabbath. - John Donne
The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity. - Seneca
Years, following years, steal something every day;
At last they steal us from ourselves away. - Horace