Thank you for the loan of your lawn mower.

a gift-bearing visitor

Whatever in my field of vision dwelt – / An indoor scene, hickory leaves, the svelte / Stilettos of a frozen stillicide – / Was printed on my eyelids' nether side / Where it would tarry for an hour or two, / And while this lasted all I had to do / Was close my eyes to reproduce the leaves, / Or indoor scene, or trophies of the eaves.

She can look a man on or look him off, either way. I wouldn't have thought any woman could look him off, I'd think she'd need a hatpin or a red-hot poker