Ann Snyder Quotes

Yet will that beauteous image make The dreary sea less drear And thy remembered smile will wake The hope that tramples fear

Autumn, the year`s last, loveliest smile.

And wrath has left its scar -- that fire of hell Has left its frightful scar upon my soul.

Poetry is that art which selects and arranges the symbols of thought in such a manner as to excite the imagination the most powerfully and delightfully

The praise of those who sleep in earth, The pleasant memory of their worth, The hope to meet when life is past, Shall heal the tortured mind at last.

Thou blossom bright with autumn dew, And colored with the heaven`s own blue. . . .

The stormy March has come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast, That through the snowy valley flies.

All at once A fresher wind sweeps by, and breaks my dream, And I am in the wilderness alone.

I grieve for life`s bright promise, just shown and then withdrawn.

The sounds I had heard seemed worthy to mingle with this bright and perfumed atmosphere, and to thrill the beautiful scenery around me.

Weep not that the world changes - did it keep a stable, changeless state, it were a cause indeed to weep.