Riddle on the door of Bethus' tomb

It was in heaven pronounced and muttered in hell.  An echo caught faintly the sound as it fell.  On the confines of earth it was permitted to rest.  And the depths of the ocean its presence confessed.  It will be found in the sphere when its riven asunder.  Be seen in the lightning and heard in the thunder.  It was allotted to man with his earliest breath.  Attends him at birth and awaits him in death Presides over his happiness honor and health. Is the prop of his house and the end of his wealth. In the heaps of the miser its hoarded with care. But is sure to be lost on the prodigal heir. It begins every hope every wish it must bound. With the husbandman toils and with monarchs is crowned. Without it the soldier the seamen may roam. But woe to the wretch who expels it from home. In the whispers of conscience its voice will be found. Nor even in the whirlwind of passion be drowned. It will not soften the heart but though deaf be the ear. It will make it acutely and instantly hear. Yet in shade let it rest like a delicate flower. Ah… breathe on it softly it dies in an hour.