According to the OED online, one of the earliest appearances of "snore" and/or "snoring" in print occurred in 1140, but an arguably more entertaining quotation comes from the 18th century and essayist Richard Steele:
1710 STEELE Tatler No. 208 6 We have a Member of our Club, that when Sir Jeffery falls asleep, wakens him with Snoring.
The etymological trail of "snore" also runs through such variations as "snork" and "snort." There's just too much to like about those two words.
A motorcycle gaggle guns its snarlers
into Larynx Tunnel. Then a nearby sea
seems to sigh. The engines rumble once
again. The process repeats itself in a crude
rhythm as the one lying next to you or
the you who listens to you subconsciously
waits for a crescendo to seize the terrible
song. Whoever is listening waits for a gulp,
a swallow, a sigh--a break of some kind
that will invite soft silence to settle
like a dew on the slumbering cacaphonic
heap of prostrate weariness. How
can tired be so loud?
Copyright 2009 Hans Ostrom