Poemsby Emily Dickinson

Why?

 The murmur of a bee A witchcraft yieldeth me. If any ask me why, 'T were easier to die Than tell. 
 The red upon the hill Taketh away my will; If anybody sneer, Take care, for God is here, That's all. 
 The breaking of the day Addeth to my degree; If any ask me how, Artist, who drew me so, Must tell!