A lazy sea came washing in Right through the Harbor mouth, Where gray and silent, half asleep, The lords of all the oceans keep, West, East, and North and South. The Summer sun spun cloth of gold Upon the twinkling sea, And little t.b.d.'s lay close, Stern near to stern and nose to nose, And slumbered peacefully. Oh, bells of Portsmouth Town, Oh, bells of Portsmouth Town, You rang of peace upon the seas Before the leaves turned brown. A grayish sea goes sweeping in Beyond the boom today; The Harbor is a cold, clear space, For far beyond the Solent's race The gray-flanked cruisers play. For it's oh! the long, long night up North, The sudden twilit day, Where Portsmouth men cruise up and down, And all alone in Portsmouth Town Are women left to pray. Oh, bells of Portsmouth Town, Oh, bells of Portsmouth Town, What will ye ring when once again The green leaves turn to brown? [Illustration: The dotted line shows the route of the Emden's survivors.] The Wanderers of the Emden Odyssey of the German Raider's Survivors Told by Captain Muecke, Their Leader By Emil Ludwig Special Correspondent of the Berliner Tageblatt. El Ula, (via Damascus,) May 7, 11:40 P.M., (Dispatches to the Berliner Tageblatt.)--The Emden caravan arrived here tonight. In advance, Captain Mücke. We were sitting in high expectation when suddenly some Arabs burst in upon us, calling out "They're here!" A small caravan climbed down from the hills; I ran to meet it. A big, blonde fellow had already dismounted, and laughed heartily at my welcome. Completely rigged out in full tropical garb and with an involuntarily full beard and the bluest of seamen's eyes, he stood beside his white camel. "Bath or Rhine wine?" was my first question. "Rhine wine," the decided answer.