Answer:
Brown I am and much admired; many horses have I tried; tire a horse and worry a man; tell me this riddle if you can.
Put into a pit, locked beneath a grate, guarded through the night, yet it still goes out.
I pass before the sun, but make no shadow.
Bury deep, Pile on stones, My mind will always Dig up them bones
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.