Beechwood fire burns bright and clear,
If the logs are kept a year.
Store your beech for Christmastide,
With new year holly cut beside.
Chestnut’s only good, they say,
If for years ‘tis stored away.
Birch and firwood burn too fast,
Blaze too bright and do not last.
Flames from larch will shoot up high,
Dangerously the sparks will fly,
But ashwood green and ashwood brown
Are fit for a Queen with a golden crown.
Oaken logs, if dry and old,
Keep away the winter cold.
Poplar gives a bitter smoke;
Fills your eyes and makes you choke.
Elmwood burns like churchyard mould,
E’en the very flames are cold
Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread,
So it is in Ireland said.
Applewood will scent the room,
Pearwood smells likes flowers in bloom.
But ashwood wet and ashwood dry
A King may warm his slippers by.