Beechwood fires are bright and clear
If the logs are kept a year;
Chestnut’s only good, they say,
If for long ’tis laid away;
Make a fire of elder tree,
Death within your house shall be;
But ash new or ash old
Is fit for Queen with crown of gold.

Birch and fir logs burn too fast,
Blaze up bright and do not last;
It is by the Irish said
Hawthorn bakes the sweetest bread;
Elmwood burns like churchyard mould
E’en the very flames are cold;
But ash green or ash brown
Is fit for Queen with golden crown.

Poplar gives a bitter smoke
Fills your eyes and makes you choke;
Apple wood will scent your room
With an incense like perfume;
Oaken logs, if dry and old
Keep away the winter’s cold;
But ash wet or ash dry
A King shall warm his slippers by.

        Anon