Answer:
What does man love more than life, fear more than death or mortal strife. What the poor have, the rich require, and what contented men desire. What the miser spends, and the spendthrift saves. And all men carry to their graves.
Twigs and spheres and poles and plates. Join and bind to reason make.
Halo of water, tongue of wood. Skin of stone, long I've stood. My fingers short reach to the sky. Inside my heart men live and die.
Long and slinky like a trout, never sings till it's guts come out.
I am the fountain from which no one can drink. For many I am considered a necessary link. Like gold to all I am sought for, but my continued death brings wealth for all to want more.
They are many and one, they wave and they drum, Used to cover a state, they go with you everywhere.