Milton's eyesight had been steadily declining for years, most likely the result of untreated glaucoma. By February 1652, he had gone completely blind. At a time before Braille, recorded books or any of the technologies that assist visually impaired people today, blindness was like an intellectual death sentence. Milton was determined not to let that happen. He dictated his business correspondence to a transcriber for as long as he could, and insisted that his daughters read to him. Milton composed a poem to explain his feelings.
"When I consider how my light is spent, Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest He returning chide; "Doth God exact day-labor, light denied?" I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need Either man's work or His own gifts. Who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best. His state Is kingly: thousands at His bidding speed, And post o'er land and ocean without rest; They also serve who only stand and wait.""
With his personal life in shambles, Milton's political fortunes began to go south as well. The reformation that Milton helped to shepherd in did not last long. Following a protracted political struggle after Oliver Cromwell's death, Charles II returned to London and took the throne; Cromwell's body was soon exhumed and publicly defiled in a number of nasty ways. Those who had assisted in the earlier regime were suspect. Milton was arrested in 1659 and briefly imprisoned for a few months. After friends intervened to secure his release, Milton was forced to move out of London and into semi-exile in the country. In 1663, he married his third wife, Elizabeth Minshull.