Beechwood fires burn bright and clear
If the logs are kept a year:
Stow your beech for Christmastide,
With new cut Holly laid beside.
Chestnut's only good, they say,
If for years 'tis stored away:
Birch and firewood 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's cold;
Poplar gives a bitter smoke,
Fills your eyes and makes you choke;
Elm-wood 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,
Pear-wood smells like flowers in bloom,
But Ashwood wet and Ashwood dry
A King may warm his slippers by.
Lovely poem, but no inkling as to the original author in theh magazine cutting I have.