Past the Infinite

There is a certain satisfaction
In how the mind comes to conclude
Upon a certain course of action
Or on an explanation. Rude
Intemperate and uncouth men
Will leap to unconsidered ends
But those who think before they pen
Can feel the pleasure logic sends
Into the soul when it's employed
And come to understand the way
The mind can be selfoverjoyed
By herding thoughts that went astray.
Yet thinking thus may make us proud
And so I do not think aloud.