Answer:
They try to beat me, they try in vain. And when I win, I end the pain.
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.
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
Round like a dishpan and smaller than a bathtub. But the ocean can't fill it. What is it?
What relies on columns but isn't a house, and asks for help but can't speak itself?
What did the piece of wood say when he saw the screwdriver and screws approaching?