An Essay written on Mar 8, 1923

Dorothy A. Johnson,
English II (7)
March 8, 1923.
A Criticism of "The Sunken Garden" by Walter de la Mare.
[Graded B+ by the grader]

Speak not - whisper not;
Here bloweth thyme and bergamot;
Softly on the evening hour,
Secret herbs their spices shower,
Dark-spiked rosemary-and myrrh,
Lean-stalked, purple lavender;
Hides within her bosom, too,
All her sorrows, bitter rue.
Breathe not - trespass not;
Of this green-and darkling spot,
Latticed from the moon's beams
Perchance a distant lover dreams;
Perchance upon its darkening air
The unseen ghosts of children fare,
Faintly swinging, sway and sweep,
Like lovely sea-flowers in its deep;
While, unmoved, to watch and ward,
'Mid its gloomed and daisied sword
Stands with bowed and dewy head
That one little leaden Lad.

If Walter de la Mare is to be judged by this sample of his poetry, he is not a desciple [sic] of the Free Verse school, for he treats a more or less conventional subject in a more or less conventional way. However, this does not in any way detract from the delicate charm of the poem. There is a quality in the "Sunken Garden" like the whisper of a night breeze, for the rhythm is smooth and musical, and the hiss of the s's adds to the illusion. It may be a stretch of the imagination to smell a poem as well as see it and hear it, but I think not, for the poet has planted his garden with such pungent-smelling flowers that a whiff of their fragrance seems to rise from the page. However, I do not think that the effect would have been lessened if the poet had used commoner and less poetical flowers. "Latticed" is perhaps the least conventional poetical expression of the poem, being a rather novel and attractive way of picturing the checkered effect of the moon-beams shining through leaves. The "little leaden Lad" gives the last, perfect touch of detail to the picture.

The quality of the mysterious in nature is always an appealing one, and Mr. de la Mare has given this quality to his poem in a very charming fashion. He makes us feel, too, the pathos of the garden, once the scene of laughter and happiness, now deserted and forsaken, with only the "little leaden Lad" to keep watch over its memories.

[Comment by the grader: "A good criticism, bringing out the delicateness of the poem and its appeal to the sense. It shows real appreciation of its charm. Margaret Owen."]