Answer:
It holds no blessings in disguise. Its rhymes are aimed at your demise, it's cast only to ruin, Whatever you are doin'.
Without a bridle, or a saddle, across a thing I ride a-straddle. And those I ride, by help of me, though almost blind, are made to see.
Large as a mountain, small as a pea, Endlessly swimming in a water-less sea.
I am the greatest teacher out of them all, but alas in the end I kill my pupils.
The more of it there is, the less you see.
Iām grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.