I did not come for naught; I'd came to warn
MacDougall's men are coming, lads, they'll be here in the morn
I travelled hard upon the road through the rainy night
Call the men to arms, my lads, it'll be a heavy fight

It seems the lass you've taken in is promised to anither
She's na wha she appears to be, she lied about her mither
She said she was a tinker lass who lost her way saw blind
And so she come unto your door, she knew you'd treat her kind

I fear she has deceived your will and know you would believe her
The clothes upon her face and hands - you'll see she's no a tinker
For though her cloak is ragged new, her skin is soft and pretty
She's traded her fine linen in for garments torn and dirty

I see that she has won your head, and you'll no give her freely
But for the kindly deed you've done I fear you'll pay most dearly
MacDougall's men for vengence come, their minds are bent on slaughter
For heer me weel she's not a lass, she is MacDougall's daughter