When Loren Eiseley died in the summer of 1977, he left the hand-written draft of his last poem, “Beware My Successor” in a drawer of hisdesk in his office on the University of Pennsylvania campus. The poem(printed in Eiseley, 1979, pp. 97–98) is, as the title suggests, a warning, acurse, for the next individual who might occupy Eiseley’s office. He beganthe poem—which amounts to his last will and testament as a writer—bydescribing various trees that have fascinated both mankind and him, se-curing a place in mythology and folklore: the mandragora—a legendaryman-eating tree, the hemlock—noted for its poison, yews, oaks, and others.These trees, Eiseley explained, occupied his mind because they have theirsay through his poetic voice; and what they announce is nothing less thanhis own imminent end as a human being