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.
Of no use to one, Bliss to two. Men lie for it. The baby’s right,
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
What can you share and still have all for yourself?
In the night a mountain, in the morning a meadow.
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?