Answer:
Both punishment and sweet reward, It will befall both fool and lord. It is a spiritual scoreboard, Your every deed it does record.
Describes a mysterious region and a stylish pair of shorts.
Who is it that rows quickly with four oars, but never comes out from under his own roof?
The ones who see it may go blind, Contracting the fool's madness. You have to dig to find it, Crush big stones or mine it. Wash dirt clumps in a pan and wait for it to settle, A shiny, precious metal.
My voice is tender, my waist is slender and I'm often invited to play. Yet wherever I go, I must take my bow or else I have nothing to say.
I am rarely touched but often held. If you are smart you'll use me well. What am I?