Answer:
Has feathers but can't fly. Rests on legs but can't walk.
What is it which builds things up? Lays mountains low? Dries up lakes, and makes things grow? Cares not a whim about your passing? And is like few other things, because it is everlasting?
Used left or right, I get to travel over cobblestone or gravel. Used up, I vie for sweet success, used down, I cause men great duress.
My life is often a volume of grief, your help is needed to turn a new leaf. Stiff is my spine and my body is pale. But I'm always ready to tell a tale.
You will find me with four legs, but no hair. People ride me for hours, but I don't go anywhere without needing to be tugged. Jerked or turned on, I always manage to be ready for work.
If lightning strikes an orchestra who is the one most likely to get hit?