Beechwood fires are bright and clear If the logs are kept a year;
Oaken logs burn steadily If the wood be old and dry;
Logs of birchwood burn too fast, There’s a fire that will not last;
Chestnut’s only good they say If for long it’s laid away;
But ash new or ash old Is fit for a queen with a crown of gold.
Poplar makes a bitter smoke Fills your eyes and makes you choke;
It is by the Irish said Hawthorn makes the sweetest bread;
But ash green or ash brown Is fit for a queen with a golden crown
Elmwood burns with a churchyard mould, E’en the very flames are cold;
Apple logs will fill your room With an incense like perfume;
But ash wet or ash dry For a queen to warm her slippers by.