Beechwood fires are bright and clear, If the logs are kept a year, Chestnut’s only good they say, If for logs ’tis laid away.
Make a fire of Elder tree, Death within your house will be; But ash new or ash old, Is fit for a 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. Elm wood burns like churchyard mould, E’en the very flames are cold, But ash green or ash brown, Is fit for a queen with golden crown. Poplar gives a bitter smoke, Fills your eyes and makes you choke, Apple wood will scent your room, Pear wood smells like flowers in bloom, 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.
The firewood poem was written by Celia Congreve, is believed to be first published in THE TIMES newspaper on March 2nd 1930.© by owner.