In 1784, Scottish poet Robert Burns penned the poem that coined the phrase that titles this post – a poem called “
Man Was Made To Mourn.” It is a dirge – an ode to the inevitable miseries of life, plaguing and afflicting all. The stanza that coins this phrase points out how often we compound our pain:
Many and sharp the num’rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav’n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, –
Man’s inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!
It came to mind yesterday as I continued to read...
