I was a creature alive, with a voice and appearance,
With a soul and sense, with joints and sinews.
I was often on horseback and often in battle.
I have frequently enjoyed the pleasures of the table.
Now I am dead, the worms eat me.
Often they go with a rush into my skull.
They creep over me, over and over, as though the road went
That way. Tell me, dear man, what is in me.
Answer
A harp