Answer:
I heard of a wonder, of words moth-eaten. That is a strange thing, I thought, weird. That a man's song be swallowed by a worm. His blinded sentences, his bedside stand-by rustled in the night - and the robber-guest. Not one wit the wiser. For the words he had mumbled.
We travel much, yet prisoners are, and close confined to boot. Yet with any horse, we will keep the pace, and will always go on foot.
Gets rid of bad ones, short and tall. Tightens when used, one size fits all.
What doesn't get any wetter, no matter how much rain falls on it?
Though I wander the earth, I am no longer here. I am pale and I chill everyone near. Who am I?
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?