I went searching in the archives for this but the one I found had slightly different lyrics from the version I heard.

The Bard of Armagh

O list to the lay of a poor Irish harper,
And scorn not the strains of his old withered hand.
But remember those fingers could once move more sharper
To raise up the mem'ries of his dear native land.

At a pattern or a fair I could twist my shillelagh,
Or trip through a jig with my brogues bound with straw.
And all the pretty colleens around me assembled,
Loved bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms shall embrace me
O lull me to sleep with sweet Erin go bragh.
By the side of my Kathleen, my young wife, o place me,
And forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh.

Sung by the Shannon Castle Singers (I forget the cd title, something like A Medieval Irish Evening? not sure.)

---

Also see Exile of Erin