Answer:
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
My first is nothing but a name; my second is more small; my whole is of so little fame it has no name at all.
I have legs but walk not, a strong back but work not. Two good arms but reach not. A seat but sit and tarry not.
Only two backbones and thousands of ribs.
What does everyone know how to open but not how to close?
I’m grown from darkness but shine with a pale light. Very round I am and always a lady's delight.