"My hair is grey, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have grown from sudden fears: My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, But rusted with a vile repose, For they have been a dungeon's spoil, And mine has been the fate of those To whom the goodly earth and air Are bann'd, and barr'd—forbidden fare;"
Lord Byron's verse from the "Prisoner of Chillon"
Photo from the 2nd day of my first honeymoon, my earliest photo on this site (1976)...