the firewood poem by Lady Celia Congreve

Beechwood fires are bright and clear

If the logs are kept a year.

Chestnuts 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 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 cold

Keep away the winter's cold

But ash wet or ash dry

A king shall warm his slippers by