“In Paths Untrodden” Introduction

• "In Paths Untrodden" is the first poem in Walt Whitman's groundbreaking "Calamus" sequence, a cluster of poems in his magnum opus, Leaves of Grass. (This version of the poem appeared in the much-revised collection's 1871 edition.) In this poem, Whitman declares his intention to explore an unspoken kind of love: "manly attachment," love between men. Celebrating and honoring such love, Whitman also makes it clear that it's too long been denied and pushed into the margins of society—a sidelining he now stands up against for the good of his very "Soul."

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“In Paths Untrodden” Summary

• In paths that no one walks, among the plants that grow beside ponds, making my escape from public life, and from all its public rules—from the pleasures, the rewards, the learning, the conventional ideas, which I tired to feed my soul with for too long; now, I understand rules that aren't yet public; now, I understand that my soul (the soul of the one person I can speak for) is best nourished and best pleased by good friends who share my feelings. Here, all alone, far from the industrial noise of the world, noticing and listening to the fragrant voices of nature, I'm no longer ashamed—for in this lonely place I can reply in ways I'd be afraid to in public. I feel a kind of powerful life energy inside me that doesn't show itself off, but holds all other kinds of life within it. I have firmly decided that I won't sing any songs today that aren't to do with the love between men; I'll send those songs out through that powerful private life energy I feel inside me; I'll thus share all kinds of vigorous, physical love; here on this glorious September afternoon in the year I'm 41, I'll speak out for everyone who is (or was once) a young man, telling the secrets of my nights and days and honoring the needs of the friends who share my feelings.

“In Paths Untrodden” Themes

• 

  Sexuality and Selfhood

  The speaker of "In Paths Untrodden"—a voice for Walt Whitman himself—feels an inward pressure he can no longer restrain. "Escaped from the life that exhibits itself" (that is, escaping his public persona), secluded in the "growth by margins of pond-waters," he finally feels able to admit a truth he's been too "abash'd" to say out loud in conventional society: that, in the very depths of his "Soul," he "rejoices most in comrades" and "manly attachment."

  This confession of same-sex desire suggests that he feels his attraction to men to be a fundamental and undeniable part of his being. To deny his love for men, Whitman boldly declares, would be to deny his "Soul" the nourishing food it needs to survive.

  In Whitman's 19th-century world, such a declaration could perhaps only take place in the "paths untrodden" in the "growth by margins of pond-waters." The speaker has to go right out into hidden, little-visited, marginal parts of nature to gain the confidence to speak his truth, a truth that the "conformities" of his society make no room for. He "would not dare elsewhere" to speak so openly. But while this setting is quite literally off the beaten path, it also subtly makes the case that the speaker's same-sex desire is as natural, wholesome, and lovely as the "aromatic" growth of reeds around a pond.

  As well as being an organic part of his being, the speaker's love of "comrades" feels to him like a truth that belongs to "the life that does not exhibit itself, yet contains all the rest." In other words, it's part of his bigger, deeper, more fundamental sense of self, not just the face he wears in society.

  By making it clear that his same-sex love is as deep as his "Soul" and must be spoken, whether or not the wider world is ready for it, the speaker insists that his desire isn't just some fleeting whim. It's a part of who he is, and a truth that hurts him when it's hidden away. His declaration that he will sing of his love "for all who are, or have been, young men" reveals that he feels this to be true of many, many more people than himself alone: sexuality and soul are, for Whitman, intertwined.

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Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “In Paths Untrodden”

• Lines 1-5

  In paths untrodden,
  In the growth by margins of pond-waters,
  Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
  From all the standards hitherto publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities,
  Which too long I was offering to feed my soul;

  "In Paths Untrodden" begins with lines that feel like an enormous, stealthy sigh of relief. The poem's speaker addresses readers from an out-of-the-way place, hidden in "paths untrodden" by the "margins of pond-waters." In this hidey-hole, he finds himself free from the pressures of the "life that exhibits itself," his public face.

  Paradoxically, this poem of secrecy will also be a poem of self-revelation: a coming-out poem. For this is the first poem in Whitman's famous "Calamus" sequence, part of his magnum opus, Leaves of Grass. In the "Calamus" poems, Whitman writes, more or less openly, about sexual and romantic love between men. (The title of the sequence refers to a kind of marsh grass that's similar to a cattail. This plant, as many critics have noted, has a phallic shape, making it a fitting symbol for the love Whitman examines here.) In Whitman's time and place, such love was at best taboo, at worst dangerous to express.

  No wonder, then, that this speaker has to go to the boggy, untrodden "margins" of the world to find freedom from "all the standards hitherto publish'd." That turn of phrase might equally suggest that he's rejecting public standards (the rules society imposes on people), and that he's rejecting the limiting standards he's imposed on himself in his past writing.

  Either way, the speaker knows he can no longer tolerate such limitations. The "pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities" (the rewards, learning, and conventions) that the world's "standards" offer him, he says, simply can't sustain him. For "too long," he has tried to "feed his soul" on such thin broth. The metaphor suggests that his soul feels undernourished, starved by societal constrictions. Now, out in the "margins," he's going to feed his soul on his own personal truth.

  Whitman will unfold this declaration of sexual independence in his characteristic form: grand, expansive free verse, shaped by powerful parallelism. For just one example, check out the anaphora in lines 3-4:

  Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
  From all the standards hitherto publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities,

  These repetitions draw a clear connection between the public face the speaker has had to "exhibit[]," the "standards hitherto publish'd," and the insufficient rewards of meeting those standards.

• Lines 6-7

  Clear to me, now, standards not yet publish'd—clear to me that my Soul,
  That the Soul of the man I speak for, feeds, rejoices most in comrades;

  

  

• Lines 8-10

  Here, by myself, away from the clank of the world,
  Tallying and talk'd to here by tongues aromatic,
  No longer abash'd—for in this secluded spot I can respond as I would not dare elsewhere,

  

  

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• Lines 11-14

  Strong upon me the life that does not exhibit itself, yet contains all the rest,
  Resolv'd to sing no songs to-day but those of manly attachment,
  Projecting them along that substantial life,
  Bequeathing, hence, types of athletic love,

  

  

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• Lines 15-18

  Afternoon, this delicious Ninth-month, in my forty-first year,
  I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young men,
  To tell the secret of my nights and days,
  To celebrate the need of comrades.

  

  

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“In Paths Untrodden” Symbols

• 

  Untrodden Paths

  The "paths untrodden" that the speaker follows down into the "margins of pond-waters" symbolize the parts of the speaker's truth he has left hidden or unspoken—until now. Figuratively speaking, the speaker's love for men is indeed off the beaten path, outside societal convention, and so is his desire to speak openly about that love. Perhaps it's no wonder that he should discover his need to tell the truth while he sits among the reeds in a place that not many other people bother to go. The speaker's image of himself sitting in the "margins" of a pond, on the edges, symbolically suggests that he feels himself and his desires to be on the outskirts of society.

  But these marshy and untrodden paths also suggest a delightfully free, fertile, and natural quality in the speaker's feelings. He sings his songs of "manly attachment" from a spot where life is untrammeled and untamed.

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• 

  Reeds and Pond Plants

  The "growth by the margins of pond-waters" that the speaker sits amid might quietly symbolize the "manly attachment" that the speaker sings of here: that is, sexual love between men.

  This scene-setting poem is the first in a sequence that Whitman would entitle "Calamus." Calamus is a cattail-like marsh plant, and as critics have noted, its phallic shape makes it an appropriate framing symbol for poems celebrating the "types of athletic love" that Whitman shares with his "comrades" (as he puts it here).

  Here, the phallic marsh plants also take another bodily form: in line 9, they become metaphorical "tongues" that "talk[] to" the speaker, urging him on to embrace, enjoy, and share his truth.

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“In Paths Untrodden” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language

• Parallelism

  Parallelism, particularly anaphora, is one of the most characteristic features of Whitman's poetic voice. Here, the device gives the poem a sense of gathering momentum that reflects the speaker's growing courage and boldness.

  The slow swell of lines 1-4 offers a good example:

  In paths untrodden,
  In the growth by margins of pond-waters,
  Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
  From all the standards hitherto publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities,

  In the first two lines, anaphora on the word "in" stresses the importance of place and presence in the speaker's decision to freely speak his truth. He's not just beside the "growth by the margins of pond-waters," he's in their midst, on his way down "paths untrodden." It's being right in the middle of these unfrequented places that spurs him toward honesty about the off-the-beaten-track truths of his own soul.

  In lines 3-4, then, the repetition of the word "from" catches up everything he has "escaped from" in the better-trodden paths of the world. The parallelism here lines up three separate things—the "life that exhibits itself," "all the standards hitherto publish'd," and "the pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities" of the wider world—as part of the same oppressive condition the speaker has fled.

  Then comes a new, ringing declaration:

  Clear to me, now, standards not yet publish'd—clear to me that my Soul,
  That the Soul of the man I speak for, feeds, rejoices most in comrades;

  The parallelism here creates emphasis and drama as the speaker unfolds his big realization: that his very soul commands him to speak the truth about the love he feels for his "comrades." There's also a feeling of unfolding in the parallelism of "that my Soul, / That the Soul of the man I speak for." Here, the slight rephrasing makes it clear that the speaker feels a responsibility to speak for his soul, as if he were its advocate.

  The verb-driven parallelism of the poem's last few lines makes the speaker's resolve to speak feel especially active and energetic:

  Projecting them along that substantial life,
  Bequeathing, hence, types of athletic love,
  Afternoon, this delicious Ninth-month, in my forty-first year,
  I proceed, for all who are, or have been, young men,
  To tell the secret of my nights and days,
  To celebrate the need of comrades.

  To project, to bequeath, to tell, and to celebrate: the poem's phrasing frames and highlights these generous goals.

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• Juxtaposition

  

  
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• Metaphor

  

  

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• End-Stopped Line

  

  

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"In Paths Untrodden" Vocabulary

Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.

• Untrodden
• Margins
• Hitherto
• Publish'd
• Eruditions
• Offering
• Tallying
• Aromatic
• Abash'd
• Secluded
• Projecting
• That substantial life
• Bequeathing
• Ninth-month

• Not walked over; not often visited.

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Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “In Paths Untrodden”

• Form

  "In Paths Untrodden" is written in Whitman's characteristic exuberant, rolling free verse. The poem takes the form of one long stanza of 18 lines, which is also one long sentence of many clauses. All this unbroken thought builds toward a central declaration of intent. Whitman, spurred along by a great surge of energy and courage, is about to speak a hitherto private truth about love between men.

  Whitman wrote the vast majority of his poetry in the kind of free verse that "In Paths Untrodden" uses. His characteristic and distinctive voice feels especially appropriate for an intensely personal poem expressing the secrets of his very "Soul."

  This is the first of a series of poems in Whitman's major (and ever-evolving) poetic work, Leaves of Grass. Whitman eventually grouped this particular series, which explores gay male love, under the heading "Calamus." (Note that ours aren't exactly the terms in which Whitman would have described his feelings: the word "gay" for homosexuality didn't gain currency until the 1930s or so.) "Calamus" is a kind of marsh plant not unlike a cattail. Whitman seems to have chosen this plant as the emblem for this group of poems because of its suggestive shape. But as this poem's first lines suggest, it's also a plant that grows in secret, out-of-the-way places. Exploring the "margins of pond-waters" and gay male love alike, Whitman is finding his way into new territory in this poem.

• Meter

  Whitman uses a distinctive and instantly identifiable flavor of free verse. Rather than sticking to any particular meter, he unrolls his poems in long, complex sentences, giving them rhythm and shape through changing line lengths and fervent parallelism.

  For a good example of how Whitman works with rhythm, listen to the first five lines of the poem, keeping an ear out for the way he uses repetitions (highlighted below):

  In paths untrodden,
  In the growth by margins of pond-waters,
  Escaped from the life that exhibits itself,
  From all the standards hitherto publish'd—from the pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities,
  Which too long I was offering to feed my soul;

  The poem's rhythm here seems to gather courage and momentum. The first four lines get longer and longer, stretching out at luxurious length as the speaker finds the gumption to banish all the societal "standards" that limit him. The repeated phrasings here—"In paths untrodden, / In the growth"—create a gathering energy, a drumroll feeling.

  Then, after the drawn-out fourth line, the fifth line (in which the speaker shakes his head over his futile efforts to "feed [his] soul" on society's thin broth of "pleasures, profits, eruditions, conformities") feels especially firm and final.

• Rhyme Scheme

  There's no rhyme scheme in Whitman's wild and woolly free verse. Instead, Whitman makes some music inside his lines through devices like alliteration and assonance. For instance, listen to line 9:

  Tallying and talk'd to here by tongues aromatic,

  The tip-of-the-tongue consonant /t/ sounds here capture the speaker's savor of all this tallying and talking. "Away from the clank of the world," sitting in the "margins of pond-waters," he can hear the more delicate voices of reeds tapping each other, making a music that also speaks to him of his own "Soul."

“In Paths Untrodden” Speaker

• This poem's speaker, like the speaker of the overwhelming majority of Whitman's verse, is a voice for Whitman himself. That's an important point here, and one that Whitman stresses (even providing his precise age as an identifying detail). For this poem declares Whitman's personal determination to write about love between men: a bold thing to do in the 1860s, and something that he seems to feel a deep need to do. In this poem (and the "Calamus" sequence that follows it), he rejects shame and convention to express the urgent feelings of his "Soul."

  The speaker knows very well that he's stepping outside "all the standards hitherto publish'd" in writing so openly about a sexuality that was, in Whitman's time, taboo at best, punishable by law at worst. But he feels this transgression as a great freedom and a relief. Going into these "paths untrodden" feels, to him, like leaving behind the "clank of the world" for the "aromatic," peaceful, and blissfully secluded "growth by the margins of pond-waters."

  Writing from within a marshy stand of reeds, the speaker knows he's going to places that not many others go—literally and figuratively. But he feels those places as natural, soothing, and "delicious," offering an easy freedom rather than a transgressive danger. Perhaps it's this speaker's relaxed and freewheeling attitude toward these "paths untrodden" that makes him seem even more transgressive.

  Clearly, however, this ease is hard-won for him. For "too long," he reflects, he was trying to "feed [his] soul" with the attitudes and pleasures that conventional society deemed appropriate. Out here in the reeds, he seems intensely relieved to shake off all such efforts.

“In Paths Untrodden” Setting

• The poem's setting is a lush, squelchy marsh, full of fertility and potential. This is a heavily symbolic place: in the "margins of pond-waters," accessible only by "paths untrodden," this is a wilderness that not many people visit, a place on the edges. This marginality makes it a great image for the gay male sexuality the speaker sets out to describe and celebrate, a sexuality that certainly didn't have a place in the more trodden paths of 19th-century America.

  And the reader knows that this is exactly when and where this poem takes place, for Whitman says so, with helpful precision. His speaker wades out into the reeds on an "Afternoon, this delicious Ninth-month, in my forty-first year": in other words, on a September afternoon in 1860, the year Whitman was 41.

  It's important that he's sitting among the reeds, too. This poem is the first in a sequence that Whitman entitled "Calamus" after a kind of marsh cattail. This plant's phallic shape makes it a fitting emblem for a series of poems exploring love between men.

  The poem's setting, then, is a little wild, a little muddy, a little off the beaten path—and, in all this, it's liberating and enriching. There's "growth" here by the margins.

Literary and Historical Context of “In Paths Untrodden”

• Literary Context

  Walt Whitman (1819–1892) wrote "In Paths Untrodden" on a warm September afternoon in 1860 (as he helpfully informs the reader in line 15). This poem of self-acceptance and self-revelation would become the first poem in a sequence he eventually entitled "Calamus," a group of poems on love between men that formed part of his major collection Leaves of Grass. Whitman would revise and revisit Leaves of Grass many times, but "In Paths Untrodden" stayed mostly unchanged across editions. This version was published in 1871.

  Whitman was a poet unlike any other. A pioneer of free verse, he struck out on his own stylistic path when most of the poets around him were still using strict meters and rhyme schemes. He was a huge inspiration to writers like Ralph Waldo Emerson and Henry David Thoreau, who shared some of his ideas about the spiritual power of nature and the holiness of the individual body and soul. But he was also influential on a broader scale: even Abraham Lincoln approvingly quoted Whitman's poetry.

  Today, Whitman is celebrated as a distinctly American voice, a writer whose poetry presented a passionate vision of democracy and fellowship even in the midst of the Civil War. Along with his contemporaries Emily Dickinson and Oscar Wilde, he's also an important figure in 19th-century LGBTQ literature: his erotic poetry celebrates the bodies of men and women alike.

  Historical Context

  The "Calamus" sequence in Leaves of Grass is a major monument of American LGBTQ literature. But when Whitman first published these poems, he clearly knew that their celebration of love between men—and especially the implication that such love might be physical as well as soulful—fell well outside the trodden paths of the sayable. Though the poems' content is explicit enough, he was always cagey about them off the page. And for good reason.

  In the 19th century, the concept of gayness as we understand it today didn't yet exist. Same-sex desire was unspoken, taboo, veiled; sometimes, as in the tragic case of Oscar Wilde, it was even punished by law. Whitman's bold poetic explorations of "athletic love" and sexuality made him a hero for many readers and writers who were just beginning to imagine that the "love that dare not speak its name" might one day become speakable. (Oscar Wilde was one such writer: Whitman met him, and indeed kissed him, during the younger man's famous tour of the United States.)

More “In Paths Untrodden” Resources

• External Resources

  • The Poem's Composition History — Read about how "In Paths Untrodden" fits into and introduces Whitman's "Calamus" sequence, a grouping of poems about gay male love.

  • Whitman in 1860 — See a portrait of Whitman taken in 1860, his "forty-first year" and the year he wrote this poem. (You can also read some of Whitman's amusingly self-deprecating commentary on his ill-fitting suit.)

  • Calamus — Read the other poems in the "Calamus" sequence (as arranged in 1871).

  • A Short Biography — Read the Poetry Foundation's overview of Whitman's life and work.

  • Queer Literature in the Nineteenth Century — Read an timeline of the queer literature of the 19th century, including an examination of the role Whitman's "Calamus" poems played in a developing idea of queer identity.

• LitCharts on Other Poems by Walt Whitman

  • A March in the Ranks Hard-Prest, and the Road Unknown

  • A Noiseless Patient Spider

  • Beat! Beat! Drums!

  • Crossing Brooklyn Ferry

  • I Hear America Singing

  • I Sing the Body Electric

  • O Captain! My Captain!

  • O Me! O Life!

  • One's-Self I Sing

  • The Voice of the Rain

  • When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer

  • When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d