Answer:
Who is it that rows quickly with four oars, but never comes out from under his own roof?
He stands beside the road. In a purple cap at tattered green cloak. Those who touch him, curse him.
People are hired to get rid of me. I'm often hiding under your bed. In time I'll always return you see. Bite me and you're surely dead.
By Moon or by Sun, I shall be found. Yet I am undone, if there's no light around
My teeth are sharp, my back is straight, to cut things up it is my fate.
I’m grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.