Answer:
My first is in some but not in all. My second is into but not in tall. My third in little but no in big. My fourth in port but not in pig. My whole is made in nature's way. For clothing, rugs used every day.
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
The more of it there is, the less you see.
It is sometimes known to have silver linings.
I count time, but have no end. Tick tick, but I am not a clock. What am I?
What is always coming but never arrives?