I bought this as I expected, with her reputation for poetic prose, strong feelings about place and, of course, the gardening stuff, that the poem would be a treat. As it is, I was disappointed. It is a long trudge through many, many lines of verse, at times pleasing but often rather stodgy and at times descending into near doggerel. At first glance it appears to be blank verse, but she uses half-rhyme and assonance to tie the verse together. Unfotunately, her grasp of rythym is weak, and this sort of long verse treatment needs a lot of poetical cleverness to keep the interest going. It is clear to me that Vita Sackville-West's talent was for prose rather than poetry.
I entirely accept that poetry is as much as anything else, a matter of taste. This review gives my personal response. If you want a "pastorale" that will make your heart sing, try the much parodied, but still superb, A Shropshire Lad
This edition has a forewrod by Nigel Nicholson, which sets the book in context.