The poetry of Walter de la Mare (1873-1956) always retained a Romantic and Victorian air. Its diction, vocabulary, and subject matter may seem old-fashioned or archaic to some. De la Mare certainly was not part of the "modernist" project. All of this troubles me not. The poetry is still there.
However, if -- for example -- you balk at the irony-free use of the word "lovely" in a poem, you had best steer clear of de la Mare's poetry. For "lovely" is a word of which he was fond.
That shining moon -- watched by that one faint star:
Sure now am I, beyond the fear of change,
The lovely in life is the familiar,
And only the lovelier for continuing strange.
Collected Poems (Faber and Faber 1979), page 266.
This is the final stanza of "Fare Well":
Look thy last on all things lovely,
Every hour. Let no night
Seal thy sense in deathly slumber
Till to delight
Thou have paid thy utmost blessing;
Since that all things thou wouldst praise
Beauty took from those who loved them
In other days.
Collected Poems, page 124.
The longed-for summer goes;
To its last rose,
Its narrowest day.
No heaven-sweet air but must die;
Its final note.
Oh, what dull truths to tell!
Now is the all-sufficing all
Wherein to love the lovely well,
Collected Poems, page 437.