Answer:
Lovely and round, I shine with pale light, grown in the darkness, a lady's delight.
You can only have it once you have given it.
Lighter than what I am made of, More of me is hidden Than is seen.
Thousands lay up gold within this house. But no man made it. Spears past counting guard this house, but no man wards it.
What type of paper can you neither read nor write on?
Almost everyone needs it, asks for it, gives it. But almost nobody takes it.