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Had Neptune when first he took charge of the sea
Last updated: 22.01.22
This fine old drinking song can be found as song XXVI in Joseph Ritson's A Select Collection of English Songs Vol. 2 : Drinking Songs (1783). It is a lovely 8-verse piece of nonsense devote to Neptune's folly at filling the ocean with brine instead of wine much to the detriment of man and beast. By the way, Ritson was an English antiquary who lived from 1752 to 1803 and was famed for his bitter attacks on some of the literary leaders of his day.

This song is included in We're Only Here For The Beer! - Light by Dr. Rosteck and myself
Please note that when reading the letter s is printed as an f. Confused? Please see below:
Had Neptune, when firft he took charge of the fea,
Been as wife, or at leaft been as merry as we,
He'd have thought better on't, and, initead of his briae,
Would have fill'd the vaft ocean with generous wine.

What trafficking then would have been on the main
For the fake of good liquor, as well as for gain !
No fear then of tempeft, or danger of finking ;
The fifhes ne'er drown that are always a drinking.

The hat thirfty fun then would drive with more hade,
Secure in the evening of fuch a repaft ;
And when he'd got tipfy would have taken his nap
With double the pleafure in Thetises lap.

By the force of his rays, and thus heated with wine,
Confider how glorioufly Phoebus would mine ;
What vaft exhalations he'd draw up on high,
To relieve the poor earth as it wanted fupply.

How happy us mortals when blefs'd with fuch rain,
To fill all our veflels, and fill them again !
Nay even the beggar that has ne'er a dim
Might jump in the river, and drink like a fifh.

What mirth and contentment in every ones brow,
Hob as great as a prince dancing after the plow I
The birds in the air, as they play on the wing,
Although they but fip, would eternally fing.

The ftars, who I think don't to drinking incline,
Would frifk and rejoice at the fume of the wine ;
And, merrily twinkling, would foon let us know
That they were as happy as mortals below.

Had this been the cafe, what had we then enjoy'd,
Our fpirits ftill rifing, our fancy ne'er cloy'd !
A pox then on Neptune, when 'twas in his pow'r,
To flip, like a fool, fuch a fortunate hour.
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The answer lies in the fact that that's not an F at all. It's actually a letter called the medial S, also known as the long S, which was a second form of the lowercase letter S. This old-fashioned letter has a long history. It's derived from the Roman cursive S and it survived as the Old English S, then onward through the history of English orthography until the 1800s.