Answer:
Not born, but from a Mother's body drawn. I hang until half of me is gone. I sleep in a cave until I grow old. Then valued for my hardened gold.
Come up and let us go. Go down and here we stay.
Twigs and spheres and poles and plates. Join and bind to reason make.
What gets beaten, and whipped, but never cries?
I always run but never walk, I sometimes sing but cannot talk, No head on which a hat to place, You always look me in the face.
What is yours but only used by others?