My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun

My Life had stood—a Loaded Gun— In Corners—till a Day The Owner passed—identified— And carried Me away— And now We roam in Sovereign Woods— And now We hunt the Doe— And every time I speak for Him— The Mountains straight reply— And do I smile—such cordial light— Upon the Valley glow— It is as a Vesuvian face Had let its pleasure through— Loaded Gun— In His hand— I become What I am— Loaded Gun— Speak the flame— Every word Finds its aim— And when at Night—Our good Day done— I guard My Master’s Head— ’Tis better than the Eider-Duck’s Deep Pillow—to have shared— To foe of His—I’m deadly foe— None stir the second time— On whom I lay a Yellow Eye— Or an emphatic Thumb— Loaded Gun— In His hand— I become What I am— Loaded Gun— No escape— I am will— I am shape— Though I than He—may longer live— He longer must—than I— For I have but the power to kill— Without—the power to die— Loaded Gun— Still I stand— Without end— Without hand— Loaded Gun— Bound to flame— Without death— Without name— Lyrics: Emily Dickinson (adapted by Cheshirah)